Love Redeems
by nightsmusic
Summary: What began as a challenge to write a steamy love scene by sebbieDiva has turned into a story of love lost, love gained and love's ability to redeem us all...pushed along by sebbieDiva and Jayro. Thanks for your faith in me. And PF for all your crits!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Don't go!… _His mind screamed at Christine as he watched the two of them leave in the boat. _Don't go…_

Christine turned back to look at him as Raoul took her to 'safety'. But what was her safety? Hadn't she always been safe with her Phantom? Had he ever hurt her? And what did life hold for her with Raoul? A boy she'd known in her childhood days, whom she hadn't seen in years. _Safety…security…love?…_

He was packing what little he could take with him as he grieved his loss of her. He knew there wasn't much time before the mob finally caught up with his lair, his home of so many years such as it was. He'd lost everything he'd ever known and he could bare that if he hadn't lost the only thing he'd ever cherished. He sensed her before he heard her. She came up behind him, softly, quietly.

"I told you to leave me. Why have you come back? Did that boy decide to find that bloodthirsty lot and bring them here for me?"

"No, I sent him away. When he stepped out of the boat to help me, I was holding the pole. I pushed the boat away and told him I couldn't stay. That my heart lay with you." His heart caught in his throat. _She came back…for me… _

"No, I don't want you here, you need to leave me. I have nothing left to offer you. It has all been destroyed."

"Master, I have nothing but _you_. If I leave, what do I do?"

Master. He had been her master – of music, of song, of her life for so long. But he was Master no more. That ended when she'd left with Raoul.

"Go back to that boy. He can provide everything I cannot." He said that last with a defeat in his voice that tore at her heart. But she wouldn't leave, she couldn't. And she was sure he wouldn't let her. He picked up his bag which he had continued to pack and without looking back at her, began to walk into one of the tunnels leading away from his lair. For a moment she stood locked in place, shock and fear surrounding her soul. _He can't leave me, not now…_

He had gone quite a way through the tunnel lost in his own thoughts when he thought he heard her. _She can't be following me still… _He was so sure, after a few hundred feet, that she would return to the lair and take the boat back to that boy. That boy! If it hadn't been for him…but what had passed was over now. No going back. He stopped and turned to look, the first he'd dared since he told her to go. His heart had hoped she would follow, but his mind told him it was a hopeless dream, and yet, he heard a sound from the darkness, that didn't belong. She was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was his mind playing cruel tricks on him. For a moment the impact of his order to her to leave him frightened him. _What if she never leaves my thoughts?__I won't be able to stand having her always there, inside my mind. That would be worse than death._ He needed to get as far away as possible and find some way to drive her from his mind. He started forward again and heard her step. He was sure of it now. He turned in time to see the hem of her skirt fade into the darkness at the outer rim of his torchlight.

"Why have you followed me! I told you to leave me!"

She came slowly into the torchlight and looked at him with fear, longing, a desire he'd never seen in any woman's eyes before. He realized that the desire was directed at him! Could it be? Could those kisses have awakened the love he had tried so hard to evoke in her? _No, it's not possible, not with this face. I know that now. It could only be pity and I could never stand that. _"Master, I have no where else to go. I want to go with you. I need you."

"No you don't! You need to go back the way you came, get in the boat and leave!" and with that, he turned and continued his trek through the tunnel and away from the life he'd known for most of it. Yet she followed. He wanted her to leave him. _Don't go… _He needed to turn off that longing and make her go back. Abruptly he stopped and turned on her.

"I…told…you…to…LEAVE ME!" The force of his fury with her was too much to bear. It ripped through her like a gunshot to the heart. He had never been so angry with her before. Exhausted and light headed from the night's events, she hadn't the strength left the shield herself from this onslaught. Her mind closed itself to her, her body weakened and she collapsed in a heap.

Erik was horrified! Not only with her sudden collapse, but with himself for being the cause of it. He'd hurt her, he knew, and that was something he had sworn to never do. He moved swiftly to her to see that she was still breathing. He knew he couldn't just leave her there and returning her to his lair would put both of their lives in danger. There was only one decision to be made. He removed his cape and covered her with it, slung his bag over his shoulder and lifted her to him. The moment he touched her, he was alive again with all of the passion she had stirred in him over these last months. When he'd told her to leave, he'd closed his heart to any chance of ever seeing her or touching her again. He knew the demons that ruled his passion for her and had kept her always at the front of his thoughts and also was well aware how hard the struggle would be to erase her from them. And now, she lay in his arms, where he had dreamt she would know she belonged. This however was not through her choice but by necessity, because of his anger. And his dream began to whither.

He walked for what seemed like an eternity, carrying her as gently as possible. He had made this journey so many times in the past, quickly and easily, but now he made it with a broken heart which slowed his step and filled his soul with pain. For he knew at the end of this journey, he would lose her again.

----------

Christine opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She lay on a bed in a small room lit by a solitary candle on the nightstand. Also in the room was a small table and two chairs, one of which was occupied by him. A chest of drawers and a washstand with bowl and ewer filled with water sat next to each other on the far wall. The wall at the foot of the bed housed a fireplace that was burning softly and casting an elegant glow to an otherwise unremarkable apartment. The room was bare of anything else.

"Where am I?" came from her as only a soft whisper, barely to be heard. As she spoke, he turned to her, and really saw her for the first time since she'd returned to him in his lair. _God, she is beautiful! _And his heart twisted in his chest.

"We're in a small room at a boarding house some way from the Opera House. It is accessible to me through the tunnels underneath the city. Isn't it wonderful what 20,000 francs will buy a month?" The last was stated with a hatred and sarcasm she had never heard from him before.

"But Master.." and before she could finish he was on his feet, his face a picture of pain and rage.

"I have a name Christine! Have you no desire to know it? To really know me? I live, I breathe, feel pain, fear, love… I am a MAN! Neither Angel nor Phantom. Just a man Christine, a man who loves you. I have a name…"

A terrible look of defeat came over his face at his last words that it nearly broke her in two. She could no more bare the look on his face than she could a life without him. As he slumped back onto his chair, she rose from the bed and walked to him. Sometime between her faint and awakening in this room, he had found a mask and it lay on the table. As she approached him, he picked up the mask and turned his face from her, knowing why she came near and not wanting her touch.

_Oh Christine…touch me…trust me… _She lay her hand on his shoulder.

"But that is all I've ever know you as: Master. Nothing else I could ever think to call you sounded right." _Until now._

Remembering what he held, he raised the mask to his face once again but she touched his hand to stop him.

"Don't Christine, don't pity me. I can stand almost anything from you but your pity." "It's not my pity I want to give you. I want to touch you because I trust you…because I…"

"Please don't, Christine…" She pushed the hand holding the mask back to the table. He continued to raise the mask to his face and she touched his hand to stop him. "Please…don't." and she pushed his hand holding the mask back to the table She smiled down at him and he could no longer stand it. He turned to her and buried his face in her skirts. He couldn't look at her. He knew if he did, he'd cease to exist becoming lost in her eyes, her soul forever. A sob caught in his throat, for an instant, and then the tears began to fall. She stood there holding him, letting him cry out his pain as she began to understand the depth of his emotions. And her own.

This man had been her Angel, her master, her teacher and tutor, her guide, her life for so many years. She had always taken her feelings for him to be that of a child for a father. And he had taken the protective place of her father for many years. But he wasn't an apparition, or ghost as the Opera House wished to believe. As she herself had believed. He was a man, with feelings and emotions, flesh and blood. He breathed, he lived, he was real and in her arms and the feelings that stirred in her heart were heady and intoxicating. These were new to her as was everything she'd learned this day. There was so much to take in, to explore, to _feel, _and as she held him, she began to understand that he could teach her so much more than music alone.

He cried great racking sobs that shook him with their intensity into her skirts, his soul bleeding out as he did so. All of the hurts, the injustices, the cruelty and pain that he had endured throughout the years came pouring out as if the heavens had opened her floodgates to the earth below. As alone as he was all those years at the Opera House, he had heard her and had reached out to her in her despair. When she first arrived at the opera house, she would come to the little chapel when the others had all slept and would cry piteous tears of grief. Within the first few days, he realized she had experienced the loss of her father. He also had heard her crying for the Angel of Music her father had promised he would send her. One night when the depth of her loss became too much for even him to look upon any further, he answered her. The smile that lit her face was a miracle to behold. And so she came, night after night, begging her angel to come to her, to talk with her. And he came. Not every night at first, but as time went on he realized that he couldn't bear to hear her cries if he did not answer her again, and so he did. A few nights a week turned into a nightly ritual with them. She would come after the opera house had gone to bed for the night and call for him. One night he was late in arriving thanks to that oaf Buquet. As he neared the chapel he could hear her singing and his heart soared with the beauty of the sound she made. He had always composed and sung the compositions to himself but now! Now he knew how to set his music free! How to set them both free. He would write for _her_… He would teach her, tutor her, bring her voice to perfection and eventually to the world. And so it began. Nightly they found themselves in the chapel, long after the lights had been dimmed. He in his crevasse behind the wall, she at the little altar. He would teach her scales and small pieces and she would sing them with a response that was almost frightening in it's purity of sound. He worked with her and while he did, he watched her grow from a small child to a beautiful woman. He couldn't remember when his feelings had changed from saviour to lover, it had happened so slowly. It astonished him the first time he realized that what he felt could no longer be considered teacher to student. When he realized that he loved her. And loved her deeply. So much so in fact that he would give his life if needs be for her, he loved her so. They continued their lesson time but for him, it would never be the same again. Now he wrote for _her_, and sang with her as a lover instead of a teacher. And her voice responded in kind. No longer was she the small child he had rescued from that pit of depression. Her voice had begun to mature with a quality of tone beyond compare. As he heard her voice mature, his heart watched her soul and body mature into a beauty that rivaled her musical perfection. But all of that had been murdered within him that night on the rooftop and now, all of the pain and rejection he'd felt came boiling out with tears that poured onto the very woman he thought he'd lost forever. He knew now he should have taken her back to the lair. He'd told her to leave him. And yet she followed. Why?

The tears lessened slowly and eventually subsided altogether and yet he couldn't bring himself to let go her skirts. She had now seen him at his lowest point and he was afraid to look in her eyes for fear of what he'd see looking back. He'd told her he couldn't stand her pity and after his display of weakness to her, knew he would see in her eyes nothing else but that. She had been holding him as he poured out his soul but now, she moved her hands to each side of his face, beauty and beast, sharp contrasts of each other, and brought his face up to meet her gaze. What he saw in her eyes filled his heart with wonder. There was no pity, no hatred, no fear. Something had replaced the look that every set of eyes save one had ever mirrored to him. He saw compassion. . He was shocked to see that look from anyone let alone Christine. He'd told her to leave him and yet, she stayed – and felt for him! He had wanted her love for an eternity it seemed but this? And did he also see something more? Yet, if that was all she could offer him, he'd drink it in to his very core and live on that alone the rest of his life.

"I _know_ you have a name. Tell me, please?"

It had been so long since he'd thought of it, he'd almost forgotten.

"When I was but a babe, I was called Erik. Erik DeBussey."

"Erik", she repeated and it rolled through her voice like the sound of an angel. "Erik, I…I cannot…"

And he knew. He _knew_! Now she would tell him that she couldn't stay, that she couldn't bear to be with him. To look upon his deformed face and shattered heart. She would tell him the only reason she had returned to him was let him know how much he had hurt her, destroyed her. He had thought, for one, brief, shining moment, that perhaps, somewhere within her, she could find the strength to love him. But he knew now that she had witnessed his downfall and would only hate him for it. He couldn't stand the thought of hearing that from her. He rose and pulled away.

"I told you to leave me, more than once. And yet you followed. And now, you _want_ to leave and I cannot return you to the opera house. It is no more. The fire will have consumed much of it by now and they will be looking for me. You should have listened to me. I cannot help you now." He walked to the door and lay his head on it, wishing to God she had never come. Knowing that it would rip his heart out when she left.

"I will make arrangements with the landlord to find suitable transportation for you in the morning. For the time being, go, lie down and try to sleep. I will remain at the table tonight." He never heard her come up behind him so engrossed in his own despair was he. She put her arms around his waist and he stiffened in shock. Too afraid to speak or move, he stood rooted to the spot, demanding in his mind that she release him and at the same time begging her with his heart to never let him go.

"Erik, please turn around. _Please_…" It was both a plea and a command from her. Spoken by the voice of an angel, the only one he knew he could never resist. Slowly he turned in her arms, which still would not be loosed from his waist.

"Erik," she began again, "I cannot…" and again he struggled to free himself from her before she could say it. But she held tight and wouldn't let him go.

"Erik. Stop, _please_. I _must_ tell you this."

Her eyes were so imploring that the fight went out of him and his struggling ceased. He felt like a condemned man at the top step of the gallows.

_I'll die without her. Please, God, don't let her say it. _

"Erik," she began, softly and with a calm she did not feel. Her insides were tearing apart at the thought that now that she knew, now that she understood all of the desires she had held bottled up within her this past several months, now that she finally held him in her arms and could tell him all of the secrets she had longed to tell him but didn't understand herself, now, upon hearing them, he would consider them childish and immature and dismiss her from his life. He had already told her more than once tonight that he didn't want her, that he wanted her to leave him, return to the opera house and never think of him again. But that was an impossibility for her, a command she could never follow. She pulled her courage to her as tightly an armor around her heart as she could and let the words tumble from her mouth, one after the other, in such quick succession that she barely breathed.

"I cannot live without you. You have become a part of my soul. I had wanted you for months to look upon me as more than a child but didn't understand why. I realized when I kissed you that what I felt, my desires for you, went far beyond what I thought I had felt for Raoul. But I needed to know that I was right and so I kissed you a second time and that is when my soul sang out in ecstasy. I thought you felt it too! But you told me to leave. I didn't want to go. But neither had I ever disobeyed your orders. It burned my heart though I went. But I couldn't stay away from you, even for those few moments. You are a part of me. The other half of me. I would never be whole without you. That's why I came back. I need you, need to be with you. Erik, I…I love you! Not with the childhood feelings I had for Raoul. I _love_ you! I don't care where we go or what we do. I only know the path my life takes must be with you, beside you always. Please Erik. Forgive my ignorance. Love me. That's all I ask."

The words had rushed out, rolling one atop the other like water through a brook, flowing, unstoppable. Erik was taken by surprise by her admission and rocked his heart.

_She loves me? Truly loves me? _

And there were no words to say what he was feeling. He looked down upon her and her face lifted to his.

"Erik, kiss me. I need to know that all is not lost. Kiss me. Love me."

He bent his head to her to touch his lips to hers. Tentatively, tenderly they touched, his lips brushing hers with the touch of a rose petal, hers touching back with the lightness of a feather. Their kiss was soft, lingering and electric. But what began as a tentative exploration turned into a fire that ignited their senses. His arms went around her and pulled her even closer while her hands went again to his face cradling it with a tenderness he had never imagined and a heaven he never wanted to leave. When at last they parted, the look on her face was almost ethereal. He'd seen it in the lovers who gazed at each other with longing desires, he'd read about it in the hundreds of books he had obtained over the years. But for him it was only a dream to be imagined. Until now. She took her hands and traced the sides of his face, both the perfect and the imperfect, running them down his jaw-line to meet in the center of his chin.

"You are perfect Erik and I would have you no other way but this."

Again he stiffened in her grasp but did not pull away. He looked into her eyes for the truth of her words and saw a depth of feeling he had never known before. She ran her fingers over his lips then reached to him kissing him again. His taste was something she knew she'd never forget. Sweet, salty, soft and yielding, she drew him closer to her and pressed his lips harder. He responded in kind, precious understanding lighting a fire in him that had smoldered for months. Their breathing became one as their rhythm attuned to each other. Everything they had been to each other over the months, the erotic dance they had done during their singing to each other in practice suddenly became a living, breathing thing between them. An entity unto itself that neither one could control. Erik pulled away from her, breathless and excited.

"Christine, we must stop. This cannot go any farther."

"Erik." His name came from deep within her, low, sensual, imploring.

"Please don't say anything. Just love me. Now. Here."

"Christine, you don't know what you ask…"

"But I do." She replied, never letting go of his face. A face that melted together to make the most beautiful face she had ever known.

"Do you not think I don't know what to expect? Think of where I lived! There is nothing that I have not heard or seen by now. But I have never experienced them. I want to now. With the man that I love and no one else. I have no fear with you. I know you will never hurt me."

And she reached forward to kiss him again. But before she could, he had lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He looked at her, loving her with his eyes, his arms, his entire being.

"Christine, are you sure? There's no going back from this. Once it has happened, it can never be undone."

She gazed at him with passionate longing and nodded her head in assent. He laid her gently on the bed and turned to the candle on the nightstand.

"Don't Erik. Leave it lit. I want to see everything that I might never forget a single moment."

He lay on the bed beside her, pulling her to him and letting her head rest on his arm. He traced her face with his gentle hands, with a bit of trepidation. He had read more than his share about how men and women shared each other's bodies, most like animals with no thought save for the physical pleasure. But he'd also read of the physical joy true lovers experienced between each other, melting into one as the joy of their love consumed them like fire. And this was real. This wasn't something in a book, how two animals behaved together. This was tender, sensual, loving, kind, soft, gentle, sweet, a thousand things he never thought to know. His only thought was for Christine, and showing her how much he loved her. His hand continued down her neck pausing at her pulse and resting there. He dropped his head to her neck and kissed the spot where his hand had been. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, all the time praying to a God he wasn't sure existed to never let it end…

His lips were so soft on her neck that a small moan escaped her and she relaxed into his arms even more. It excited a place in him that had never been allowed any freedom before now.

He kissed her neck again and she pressed to his lips to feel the softness of his skin upon hers. She began to feel warm in places she had not known existed within her. Her body started to respond to his caress in ways she'd only heard of. She wanted more of his touch, more of his love. He kissed her neck again traveling his lips down the front of her until he skimmed the top of her dress. Her breasts responded to him and began to tingle. She had never experienced these feelings before. They were strange and frightening and wonderful all at the same time and she never wanted them to stop. She turned her face to his and kissed him, this time hard and hungrily like a dying man in the desert tasting his first drop of water. Her thirst for him became overpowering and his for her. He caressed her body as he had during Don Juan, but this time she was completely aware of his every movement. His every touch. And she trembled with desire for him. She put her hands on his chest and felt the solid muscle there. She had never felt a man's chest before, not like this, and the strength there drove her pulse to a breakneck speed. Erik could feel her body reacting and it pushed his boldness to a new level. He reached behind her to undo her dress but couldn't reach the ties. She pulled from him enough to turn to her other side so he would have a clear view of her back. He untied her and unlaced her dress, releasing the tension of her corset. The relief she felt brought a huge sigh which only made him want her more. He split the back open and ran his fingers down her spine, sensing the fire that burned beneath them and watching her reaction for anything that would displease her in any way. She seemed to relish his touch which awed and excited him at the same time. He placed his hand under the corset and around her waist to touch the skin on her abdomen. He was amazed at the softness there. He moved forward to bury himself into her hair and her back and pressed himself against her drinking in a fragrance he thought never to know again.

When he touched her skin, a small gasp caught her unawares and sent her blood racing. She wondered if she would ever get enough of him and never wanted to know the answer. He was all she wanted and more and she loved all of him completely. She turned back to face him and smiled at him. She could see the sheer joy and adoration in his eyes for her. She reached to his shirt and pulled it from his waistband and undid the buttons laying his chest bare. She began to remove her corset, but he stopped her.

"Let me do it Christine. I want to do this for you. To please you."

Again she smiled at him as he removed her corset and exposed her breasts, now covered by only the barest of chemise. . For a moment he stopped all breath and movement because she was so beautiful. And she wanted him. She _loved_ him! He reached his hand to caress her breast when sanity suddenly reared its ugly head and he realized that what he was doing was wrong. She was his life's desire but not his wife and the dishonour he would bring to her shamed him. He cherished her above all else and could not cause her that kind of shame and pain. He stopped all movement and closed his eyes in an attempt to bring reality back between them. Christine felt the heat between them begin to dissipate and Erik to pull away.

"Erik, what is wrong? Why have you stopped?" The confusion of his stopping was overpowering to her.

"Is this not what you want?"

He opened his eyes and looked upon her, wanting her even more.

"Christine, you are everything I've ever dreamed and more. To be with you now, at this threshold of desire and understanding… but I cannot shame you by dishonouring you nor shame myself by losing your trust. You are like a gift I have no right to accept."

He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling above, his fists clenched tightly as he fought to reign in his emotions. Confusion and hurt were evident in her eyes as his words sank into her. And then her anger took over and pushed her own boldness to a new level.

"I love you Erik! What is so wrong in that? What is so wrong in our joining our love as one? Do you care for me so little that you would treat me like one of the ballet brats who are toyed with and then cast aside? Does my love mean so little to you now?"

Angry tears began to roll down her cheeks as she quickly gathered her corset and tried to move away from him when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. The power of his grip made her want to cry out in pain but she would not give him the satisfaction, so hurt and angry was she. She stopped moving and after a moment, Erik loosed his grip a bit, but did not let go.

"Christine…I never thought I would be granted such a miracle as you! I had been prepared to live life alone, without someone to share my life, my love of music, of all things beautiful. But then I heard you cry in the night and it tore at me because I understood your pain. You're not that small child anymore Christine! You've grown into a beautiful, sensual, vibrant woman. The kind of woman about which honor has many rules. And as much as I want you, need you, right now, at this very moment, I love you enough not to break those rules. I cannot do that to you. I cannot shame you like that." "And what about what I want Erik? You haven't forced me to be here. I'm the one who said I want you. I didn't need to do that. I didn't need to open myself to you, to take the chance that you wouldn't laugh at my feelings or treat me like a silly girl. We could have gone on, playing at the love we both feel for each other and never allowing it to truly bloom. But it's not what _I_ want from you. I told you that you are the second part, the other half of me. I don't want to be a just half any more. I want to be joined and become a whole person Erik. And the only one who can do that is you! I love you. I need to be with you, as one, for eternity if possible. There is no shame in that! Love me Erik, love me." As he looked at her, he longed to give in to their desires. But he knew that to do so would condemn them both and pull the hangman's noose around their love. As hard as it was for him to do, he pushed away from Christine.

"Please Christine," he sighed as he rose from the bed, "please don't ask of me something that you and I both know I shouldn't do. Not like this. You must cover yourself before I lose the control I'm finding so difficult to hang on to."

Christine was furious at him for suddenly treating her as if she meant very little to him. But as she rose to pull herself together she began to think about what had just happened. Had they stepped over the boundaries of propriety, neither would ever truly be able to live with what they'd done. She realized that one of them must maintain a level head. More's the better that Erik do that as she knew how weak she would be should the opportunity arise again. She righted her garments but was unable to re-lace the back of her corset. Reaching out to touch Erik's back, she felt him stiffen somewhat as she asked him to help her lace herself. He had known he would have to help and was not looking forward to the prospect. His control was already held together by a tenuous thread. He turned to her, she with her back to him, and began to lace her corset for her. As he neared the top, his fingers brushed against her skin and the electricity charged through them both. It was all he could do not to bend his head to her and kiss her with soft, smothering kisses across her back and up into her hair. He managed a semblance of neatness as he tied and when he was done, turned her to him and crushed her in his embrace.

"Christine, never for a moment think that I wouldn't want you – that I don't love you, with all of my being. But now is not the time nor place for that. We've just found each other as lovers. I do not want to do a disservice to something so fresh and new and…precious. Please understand me and….and trust me."

Christine looked into his eyes and knew, without doubt, that she would trust this man with her very soul, her love for him was so great.

"Alright Erik, I understand. I will wait, along with you, until the time is right. Just remember Erik, the depth of my love for you has no bottom to it. I was, and still am, willing to give you every piece of me that you will take, all carrying the love I have for you."

Once again, he pressed her to him, loving her with everything inside of him. When he finally held her at arms length, he realized that she was ill dressed for the 'occasion' and smiled ruefully.

"I think I will need to gather some wardrobe for you since this seems to be all that is left of your trousseau." At once he realized the mistake of his words but Christine only smiled and replied "Maybe so, for now, my love, but don't make me wait too long…"

----------

I want to extend my sincerest apologies to one of our wonderful phic writers from whom I inadvertently chose my Erik's last name. For future purposes his last name is actually Debussy…


	2. Chapter 2

I want to extend my sincerest apologies to one of our wonderful phic writers from whom I inadvertently chose my Erik's last name. For future purposes his last name is actually Debussy…

Chapter 2

Erik woke in the morning stiff and sore from sleeping at the table the rest of the night. He had set up a makeshift curtain for Christine so she could remove her wet dress and it remained in place as she slept through the night. Her dress had been handed around the curtain so Erik could lay it over the back of the other chair to dry. He had already been too tempted last night and did not want to encourage his passions to interfere a second time. They had already become his body's ruler once; he couldn't afford to have that happen again. He didn't like the notion that his passions had overruled his judgment and couldn't afford to have that happen again. Not when one night of mindless desires could cost him an entire lifetime of love.

As he rose from the chair, he stretched his arms and legs in an attempt to loosen his aching muscles but they pulled back in protest. He looked around and wondered how he had come to this place, not to this room, but to this point in his life. In his wildest imagination, he could never have foreseen something like this happening. From his earliest recollections, he had only known pain, fear, and hatred from his fellow human beings. Human beings, a name too easily given. Animals came closer to the truth. Striking out at anything that they feared or did not understand, or anything that was different from them. And certainly he was different. Given to a band of gypsies by a mother he barely remembered, beaten daily, sometimes to the point where he could see Death, waiting in a dark corner for him to give in, hated, despised, scorned. Until an angel of mercy came into his life and gave him the only freedom and acceptance he'd ever known. Brielle Giry. The only person who had ever before looked upon him as more than a freakish animal to be ridiculed because of a deformity over which he'd had no control. Fate had dealt him a hand worse than death, a God he didn't know had decided he should live rather than die at birth, and mankind had hated him because it was easier than looking at the flaws within themselves. And here, in this room, another angel, this one a gift from a God he barely believed in, except to rage at when his pain and loneliness were more than he thought he could endure.

Now, he must decide what to do about her. Could he keep her with him, subjecting her to the same cruelties he had endured? Or convince her to go with that boy and live a life of ease and leisure? And what of her profession of love last night? Could he really believe, now in the light of day, that everything that happened between them last night was real? Or just another one of the many dreams he'd had over the past year or so about what it would be like to be truly loved by his beautiful Christine. _His_ Christine. He'd told her at the masquerade that she belonged to him! And he thought she did. Until he understood that though he might own her mind, he didn't necessarily own her heart. She'd shown that when she went with that boy. Raoul. Foppish in dress and manners. Spoiled in the expectations that what he wanted, he would always get. He went after Christine as if she were a prize to be won, not a woman with a soul. Only Erik knew her soul. He'd touched it a thousand times through their music. Together, they had melded their souls into one. Every song, every movement, was a bonding that he thought could never be broken. Then came that night on the roof and everything he had believed was shattered. He stood in the shadows and listened as Raoul drew Christine into his web with talk of safety and security. She responded because she'd known him as a child. And because she could see him, touch him. Erik had been part Phantom, part ghost to her, not yet flesh and blood. Not yet someone solid, that she could hold. Deep in his heart, he knew that he would never be that for her. Not completely. He could never take her for afternoon strolls in the park, never sit in a restaurant and enjoy each other's company by candlelight, never have a normal semblance of life. She could never have that with a gargoyle like him. With a face like his, what kind of life could she have? Never a public one of any kind. And that was no life for anyone…except perhaps him and him alone. No, he couldn't believe that Christine would willingly choose a life like that. She had no idea what it was like to live underground, always in the dark. It was a life he had learned to embrace, because he was forced to, not because he'd wanted it. How could she?

There were too many questions and Erik had no answers at the moment, and though this was also new to him, he knew the answers would come in time. Right now, he had a more pressing problem and that was, _what to do about Christine_. He always thought if he ever had to leave, it would be easy enough. He knew what he wanted to take should that problem arise and had planned for the smallest detail. But even _he_ couldn't plan for Christine wanting to accompany him! A beautiful opportunity had been given to him and now he was afraid it would be a terrible burden. Not because he didn't want her with him, but what was he going to do with her now that she was! She couldn't very well stay in the room all day, every day. There were personal needs to attend to and although the proprietor of the boarding house was completely discreet, they would have to leave the room at some time during the day and evening. For Erik, it was an easy trek back down tunnel. It was hidden behind the dresser and opened by a recessed latch that only he could find. But for Christine, it was different. She couldn't go around crawling in the dirt every time she needed to leave, especially dressed in the only clothing she had, her wedding gown!

He had fully intended to make her his bride, one way or the other at the end of his Don Juan opera. He loved her, she belonged to him, and he would have her, any way he could. And then things changed, she changed and his heart changed and for the first time in his life, he understood the word sacrifice. When she kissed him, it brought everything into sharp relief. He understood suddenly what it meant to let someone be happy, although it could kill one to do so. And it broke his heart to let her go, but he knew, or thought he knew, that it would make her happiest if he did. But that, it seems, is not what _she_ wanted. Last night she had said things his heart had ached for, his mind had only dreamed of. And if it was a dream, he hoped this was still part of the dream and that he would never wake.

He heard a stirring on the other side of the curtain and realized that Christine would soon wake. And then what? Would she regret her choice? He'd told her to make a choice last night and she had chosen him! The choice made his heart soar and his head ache with the thought that she had no idea what choosing him entailed. But she would soon find out, and so would he. His heart had already decided for him. He could never, in all his life, deny himself Christine.

"Erik?" It came as a whisper from behind the curtain. "Erik, are you there?" No longer a whisper, but now a plea, his heart reached out to her, longing to hold her once again, as he had last night. "Erik!" This time it came with a slight panic to it and he rushed to the curtain, stilling his hand at the last moment from ripping it down to relieve her fears.

----------

She heard him approach the curtain and remembered. She remembered his embrace, when he finally opened himself to her. And though it was only a small crack in the door to his heart, it had been enough. Enough for her to see the some of the real man inside. Enough for her to know she'd made the right decision. The decision to return to him, where her heart and soul belonged. How she could ever have thought to leave in the first place, she had no idea. Last night had proved to her how closely the fabric of their souls had been woven over the last several years. She could barely remember a time that he wasn't a part of her life. He'd been a father, guardian angel, teacher, life's guide and, in some ways, already her lover for more than half her life. Living without him wouldn't be living, it would only be existing. She realized that it had taken the events of last night to open her mind and heart to the truth in her life, and that truth was that she was nothing without Erik. He loved her, and she him.

She wasn't sure when it started, but as she thought about it now, she could see the signs, that she'd never noticed. How his voice had changed over the last few months when he sang with her and to her. It no longer held the tone of teacher to student. It had become seductive and sensual and she was amazed that she hadn't heard it before now. When he had finally shown himself in the mirror and she had gone to him, she felt alive like she'd never felt before. She had taken his hand and it was real! He wasn't a ghost as everyone thought he was. His hand was warm through his glove. And his pull on her as they descended to his lair was all too real as well. When he had lifted her from his horse, he had grabbed her round her waist and she had felt something completely different from anything before. Of course she'd been held in a man's arms as part of the operas she had performed in, but that was simply acting. This touch brought out desire in her. Again when they reached the shore of his lair and he reached to help her out of the boat those feelings resurfaced. Warm, wanting, desires she had never felt before. Not sure what she was experiencing, she focused solely on him as he walked her to his music's throne. It was littered with musical scores, books, pens, inkwells…but the centerpiece was a magnificent pipe organ. The most beautiful she'd ever seen. As she gazed upon it, he began to sing to her and she lost sight of everything around her but him. His voice drew her into him, so much so that, though she was sitting a room's length away from him, she could feel his heart beating within her. Her mind dissolved into a trancelike state as he pulled her farther away from the life she knew and into a life of sensual desires, a life she knew could posses her completely if she only allowed herself the luxury of giving into it.

She knew now that the life he had shown her there was the life she truly wanted. A life of dark beauty and sensual desires, of a heart filled with music, a life of love known and shared with one who knew your soul, who possessed all of you.

----------

He came to her and took her hand in his and she rose to meet him without thought or care. As he led her around, showing her all of the wondrous things he surrounded himself with, she became more and more lost in the magical world he was weaving around her. At some point in his song, he moved her ahead of him, guiding her by the shoulders to a grotto in the wall, covered by a shear curtain. Everything had been so mesmerizing to her that she had fallen completely into his intoxicating world. When he pulled the curtain back, he revealed a mannequin, which was an exact replica of her wearing a wedding gown. She had dropped all of her defenses to him; every bit of common sense she possessed was gone from her mind as she fell farther into his dream world. But this! What she saw was beyond her imagination! It stunned her, this clash of reality and fantasy and the last thing she could recall was the strength of Erik's arms as she fainted into them.

She wasn't fainting now. She'd matured years in the past several months and now understood exactly what Erik had been trying to show her. He loved her, loves her still, she was sure of it! Last night proved it to her! And though he had shown remarkable restraint with her, she knew too how hard that had been for him. She felt his passion in his every move with her. His hands, his eyes, and the way his lips pressed to hers. She knew he wanted her, completely and wholly and she was willing to give all of herself to him. But he had to be ready to accept her, and she knew that would be hard in coming. He'd been hurt by life so many times…she knew he would continue to survive that. But should _she_ hurt him again, she knew it would destroy him. And _she_ would never survive that either.

----------

Christine watched Erik's hand as he grasped the edge of the curtain. It was tentative, gentle. She had known that was in him the moment she first touched him and it filled her heart to see it now.

"Christine, are you alright?" he asked, the worry evident in his voice.

"Yes, Erik. I'm fine, just a little disoriented for a moment, but I know exactly where I am now. Where I belong. With you." His heart soared to hear her words and for a moment he forgot his dilemma of what to do with her. _She can't stay here with me. This is no life for her…_he thought as the nearness of her stirred him.

"Christine, we must talk about what happened last night…your following me and being here now. This isn't the place for you, you don't belong here." He heard nothing from the other side of the barrier that separated them, which was really no barrier at all.

"Christine, do you hear what I'm saying? I have nothing but misery to offer you now, as if I'd had much more than that before the events of last night…" He scoffed at his own bitter sound. He wanted to give her the world but had nothing to offer now except this room. He didn't even have a decent bit of clothing she could wear. Her real trousseau had been left behind when he thought he was leaving her behind as well.

"Yes Erik, we do need to talk and it's better to do so now, in the light of day, where we can see each other for who we truly are. Please come 'round the curtain." He looked round the edge at her to see that she was well wrapped in the bed covers and so he stepped around to stand by her. She placed her hand on the bed and asked him to sit with her.

"Christine, I don't know that sitting there would be a wise thing to do right now." He knew his limitations and to have her this close was trying them to they're fullest.

"Erik, I have no doubt that you will remain the gentleman I know you to be. Please sit with me so we can speak eye to eye, or else you will force me to stand…" She began to lower the covers and watched a brief moment of something close to panic pass his eyes before he slowly sat on the edge of the bed and faced her.

"Christine, this is very hard…for me to be this close to you and not touch you, hold you. You are what I've dreamed of for months now. But it was never my intention that it be like this. I've only ever wanted tenderness and love for you and look at what I've done instead." His sadness made her heart break. So like the little boy he must have been at one time, hoping for love and only being hurt instead.

"Erik, you didn't ask me to follow you. You told me to go, to leave you. Had I not kissed you, not felt the love that was inside you, I would have done so. But I did feel it. I couldn't stay away from you. And so I am here. We are here! Together. Please, don't make me go again. I wouldn't survive life without you now, and I don't think you would either. You know I'm right. The better thing to discuss is where we go from here." Erik looked at this stranger sitting next to him. And in many ways she was just that. He had not seen her in the three months he had refined his plan. Obviously, she had developed into a rather strong willed woman! Something he never expected but was finding rather refreshing.

"Well, I suppose Christine, that the first thing we need to do is get you appropriately attired. You can't live forever in your chemise or a half torn wedding dress." She watched a shadow cross his eyes for only a moment, and then it was gone. She knew it pained him to have nothing to offer her as far as he was concerned, but there were other offerings much more important than clothing…

"What would you propose we do about that? Of course… I could always wear some of your clothing. It wouldn't be the first time I had dressed like a man." She smiled at the thought of Il Muto, when Carlotta croaked like a toad! It was a moment she knew she would never forget. Erik smiled too, obviously remembering the same scene, but then, once again, that dark shadow passed his eyes and she remembered the rest of what had transpired too. She was ashamed and knew her actions immediately following that scene were something she would never forgive herself for.

"Well," he began, trying to remain lighthearted for her sake. "If you'll give me a few moments, I think I can do something to take care of that problem at least." He rose from the bed and walked to the table to pick up his mask, and then to the fireplace where, she noticed, a bell-pull hung to one side. He pulled it and walked back to her. It wasn't but a moment and there was a knock on the door. Christine startled, but Erik walked quietly to the door and put his face to it, looking through the barest of cracks to see who stood on the other side. She rose to peek around the curtain, not sure if she should be prepared to run. When his suspicions were assuaged, he opened the door to a small man bearing a tray with warm rolls, butter, cream, a teapot with cups and a smile so wide, Christine thought his face would break from the strain.

"M. Debussy! Did you pass a restful night monsieur? I have breakfast of a sorts and there is a warm bath drawn down the hall for you and your, um, guest. I am so glad to see you back and safe!" He bustled around the room, almost like a mother hen, placing the tray on the table along with napkins and silverware from where, Christine didn't know. She was sure it wasn't there with him when he entered.

"Claude, thank you. Is the floor empty today?"

"Oui monsieur. I moved everyone after we had talked last night. The floor will remain empty for as long as you like. Is there anything else I can do for you monsieur?" He had a twinkle in his eyes that was contagious. Christine noted that he was very short, a little older than Erik, with a thin build and a wry smile that seemed to never go away. He also seemed a boundlessly energetic man as he bounced around the room; obviously delighted that Erik was there.

"Yes Claude, I need some items of clothing procured, in the same style and size as the ones you supplied me before for my…guest. Is that possible this early in the day?"

"Oui monsieur! I shall be back soon." He winked at Erik as he exited the room and began whistling as he walked down the hall.

Christine had watched the entire exchange with amusement as well as some confusion.

"How is it that this man seems to know you so well? I thought you never left the Opera House. Well, at least very little." She had wandered to the table and sat in the chair Erik had occupied the night before. Pouring tea for the both of them, she placed a cup in front of the other chair and looked to Erik to sit and eat. He walked to the chair, never taking his eyes off her. Even after what he knew to be a fitful night's sleep on her part, she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Would he ever see a day that she was not? In his heart, he knew the answer to that question would always be no.

After sitting, he pondered on how best to answer her question and decided that the story from beginning to now was the best answer he could give. He no longer wanted any secrets between them.

----------

"I met him shortly after deciding to make the Lair my home. I was wandering the streets late at night, knowing it was easier for me to procure what I needed if I stayed in the shadows. I couldn't wander about in the daylight like others obviously but getting the things I needed after 'business hours' if you will, was not necessarily the way I wanted to do things either. As I passed through an alley, I heard muffled crying and scuffling along with male voices. I had no idea what to expect but what I came upon horrified even me. There were three men holding down a young girl of 10 or 11, one having pinned her in place while the other two attempted despicable things with her. As I came up behind them, one heard my approach and turned on me trying to kill me. I had the upper hand however and dispatched him immediately." As Erik recounted the story, Christine's eyes shot wide at the cold tone of his voice, but her heart cried out in terror for the little girl's plight. "The other two, now realizing that they had met their match in a grown man rather than a little girl, fled the scene. But I had gotten a very good look at them before they fled and their faces were burned into my memory. As I reached down to the girl, she looked up to me and asked if I were an angel disguised against the world." It had pulled so at his heart to realize that someone could think that way of him, even in her terror. "I lifted her asking where she lived. She had enough wits to tell me before the events caused her to faint and I was able to take her home."

Erik pounded on the door of the inn with his boot, while holding the girl in his arms, trying to shield her from the night and her pain. Thankfully, she still had not regained consciousness as he cursed under his breath at the length of time it seemed before the door was opened. Pounding once again, he heard the bolt thrown back and the door was flung open by a small man who looked terrified. Erik pushed past him into the inn, demanding to know where the girl's bed was. The little man said nothing but pointed and led the way to the back of the inn, which looked like family quarters. Erik placed her on the bed and began giving orders for some hot water and cloths. The little man jumped at every word as if he'd been poked repeatedly but moved quickly to obey Erik's orders. Erik took the bowl and cloths and began to administer some first aid to the girl when a woman also entered the room. He realized that this must be the young girl's parents. He said nothing more until he had cleaned and bandaged her wounds as best he could. He then turned to the couple, who stood mute by the door, never having taken their eyes from the scene unfolding before them.

"Is this your daughter?" he demanded from them. "Why was she allowed out at this time of night alone? Did you not think something like this could happen?" But the man and woman just stood there, staring at him as the fury poured out of him in waves. Finally the little man seemed to regain some sense of himself and he took a few tentative steps toward Erik.

"Monsieur? We did not know she was out alone. She was at my mother's caring for her for the night. We did not expect Antoinette to return home until morning." The little girl stirred and lifted her arm to her 'angel', smiling at him with beautiful blue eyes through a bruised and battered face.

"Papa, he is an angel in disguise. God sent him to save me. Please don't be mad at him. He helped me." Erik looked at the little girl and his heart lost its anger. She was so small and frail looking. When he turned to the parents, he realized how thin and frail they looked as well. Then he took his first good look around the room and realized they must live barely above the poverty level. Surely things were not this bad in the city? Where so many wealthy noblemen worked and lived.

"She was supposed to stay with my mother tonight as she can't be left alone. She is old and very ill and my wife and I had been there for days. The inn needed tended to so we came back here and left her with my maman."

"Papa, but that is why I left. Grand maman! I'm afraid she may have died papa! I thought she was sleeping but couldn't wake her. When I left to get the doctor, I was grabbed by those men. They dragged me into the alley and papa, they…they…" and she began to cry great tears of fright and sorrow. Both the man and his wife went to her, surrounding her while their grief melded together with hers. Erik had arisen from the bed at their approach and moved to the door to leave when the little man turned to him, his tear filled eyes grateful and beseeching.

"Please monsieur. You have saved my only child tonight. I owe you everything I have. How can I repay you your kindness?" Erik realized _they_ didn't see his mask. They only saw him, a man, and not a monster, who had helped their family on that dark, sad night…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Before Erik could say anything else, there was a loud banging on the door he had entered the inn through. The little man looked at him, and watched the same look of fear a caged animal would have quickly cross his eyes.

"Come monsieur, I have a place for you to stay. It must be the gendarmes. I don't know what you did to save my Antoinette, but whatever it was, they will be looking for you. Come, quickly monsieur!" And with that, he took Erik by the sleeve and began to lead him out the room and down the hall.

Reaching the last room, he fairly pushed Erik into it, following and then closing and locking the door behind him. Moving to the fireplace, he pushed a spot that was slightly recessed and not visible to anyone who was not aware of it. When he did this, a door slid open to the left of the fireplace to expose an opening, no taller than the fireplace itself. Motioning to Erik, the little man looked furtively and spoke.

"Hurry monsieur! Go through this opening and down the tunnel. It runs the length of the city. I know not where you come from, but if you do not go now, the gendarmes will take you to the bastille just because of how you would appear to them! A finely dressed man in an inn like this! Hurry!" He shoved a lantern that had been hanging by the fireplace into Erik's hand and almost pushed Erik through himself. His brutal honesty shocked Erik, not because he had not experienced that kind of hate in his past, but because there was no hate or fear associated with the words spoken. This man had looked upon him and found him to be worthy of saving. Erik had no idea why, but was not about to stare fate in the face and challenge it now.

"Alright" Erik said, "but I'll be on the other side. Come back and let me know when the gendarmes have left." And with that, he disappeared through the opening, which closed almost immediately after.

Erik went about 20 feet forward before the small tunnel opened into a much larger one that appeared to go on forever. The lantern gave feeble light, which only reached a few yards ahead of him. He moved forward slowly, trying to take in the surroundings. The tunnel was crudely cut out of the rock, but the floor was smooth as if from years of use. He didn't want to move too far from the opening in case Antoinette's father returned and did not see him. He went back to the opening where he could hear noises from the other side. Shouting voices were barely discernable and he could not tell what was going on. He stood quietly, hoping if and when the door re-opened, the correct person would be standing on the other side.

It was some time later, Erik had sat after getting tired of standing in one spot, when the door slid open once again. The little man's face re-appeared in it, a twinkle in the very black eye he presented to Erik as he waved him back into the room.

"It is alright monsieur. They have gone."

Erik took a good look at Claude, who now looked as if he had been in a fight with a brick wall, the wall having won! "What is it they did to you?" Erik demanded. This night had gone from bad to worse to completely foreign and confusing to him and he was still attempting to take it all in. Antoinette's father not only had a black eye, but a rather fat lip as well!

"It is nothing monsieur. Nothing that does not always happen when the gendarme are trying to 'gather' information. They simply wanted to know why there was a dead man in the alley not too far from the inn. I told them I did not know, but I'm not sure they entirely believed me." For a quick moment, a twinkle lit the man's eyes before worry replaced it once again.

"It was only my intention to bring your child back to you, as hurt as she was, not to bring the whole of the Paris police upon you as well!"

"Oui monsieur, you have certainly done that! And with quite a flair if I may say!" Growing more serious he continued. "Please sir, you are welcomed to stay until the streets quiet down, which could be some time from now. I must go and check on my maman…" and tears came to his eyes.

Erik felt, for just a moment, a pang of something akin to compassion for this man. It was an uncustomary feeling for him, as were several others he had experienced this night. Even a month before, he would never have stopped to help the girl in the alley. Humanity was not his ally in life and he had no idea why he'd stopped at all. Something about the sound he heard had pulled at him and drew him into her plight. And now, to stand before someone who saw him for more than a monster…

"My name monsieur is Claude Briguere. You saved my only child Antoinette tonight. I thank you for that monsieur, and I pledge you my life! No one else would have done the same. My wife Angelique is with her now and will stay with her tonight. What I must do now is see to my maman. I am not sure what I shall find, but I must know…"

Erik once again watched the sadness pass over Claude's face. Again, he made a decision that was completely out of character for him.

"I will see to her. Tell me which apartment is hers. _I_ won't be seen. _You_ will." Claude looked at Erik, sizing him up before smiling again and relating the address and apartment number. They went to the door, Claude opening it and making sure the gendarmes had gone before allowing Erik to leave.

When he had closed the door, he returned to his wife and child.

----------

"Is he gone?" Angelique asked. She looked somewhat relieved when Claude nodded in assent. "Good, his mask scares me a bit, though his heart is kind."

"Angelique, that man saved our daughter tonight. She would most assuredly have died without him. God sent him to us at our greatest time of need. To turn from God's gift now would be to slap Him in the face. I will not do that, nor will I allow you to. He will remain my responsibility from this point forward. And yours as well."

Angelique looked at her husband and decided that he was correct. This man, who wore a mask for whatever reason, had become their saving angel tonight. She could not doubt that he had in fact, been sent to protect them. She placed her hand on Claude's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"You are right my love. We have our daughter, thanks to this man. We must do all we can for him now…"

"Papa? Maman?" Antoinette spoke weakly, "He is my angel who saved me. He wears the mask so people won't know him for who he truly is. He is one of God's angels after all. It's the only way he can work his miracles without being known…" and she drifted off to sleep…

----------

Erik recounted the rest of the story to Christine, who wavered between horror and tears of sadness and joy. It drove home to her heart once again, how incomplete she would be without him. He told her that he had found Claude's maman, dead in her bed. Antoinette had been right it seemed. He had returned to Claude to tell him, where, despite their grief, they welcomed him to their home, fed him what they could from their meager table and bade him stay the night. After a slight verbal struggle with Claude, he had agreed, knowing that it was the kindness of their hearts that prompted them to do so. Claude had returned Erik to the room he and Christine occupied now, the same one that held the secret door, telling Erik that it would always be available for him should he need it. Erik knew that it was also Claude's way of saying that Erik was free to leave the inn at any time and could trust this family in whatever was needed.

----------

Christine looked around the room with confusion. It certainly wasn't what she had seen in the Lair. No fine tapestries, rugs, linens…no exquisite furnishings. Erik could see the questions in her expression.

"It wouldn't do Christine, for this family to suddenly live beyond their means, or have a tenant that did so either. Rest assured, this is exactly as it should be to keep up pretenses. What do you think would happen to this family, should the gendarmes return unexpectedly? If they saw an elaborate room on their 'inspection' what do you think they would do? This is for the family's protection as much as my own." Again, Christine was awed by the care and compassion Erik was showing, even if he could not see it in himself. It only endeared him to her more.

"Erik. Don't you see? This family, maman – Mme. Giry…Meg, these are all people who have cared for you, still care for you now. Can you not see that there are other's besides me who see you for who you truly are?"

Erik looked at her with wonder, once again seeing the woman who had taken the place of the girl he'd left months before. But he had lived his life thinking and believing that no one would ever look on him with anything more than loathing and fear. Man was inherently afraid of the things that he did not understand, or that were distinctly different from him. And man had feared and hated Erik all of his life. He could not see past man's hatred to the care of those now close to him.

Christine waited for a moment and when Erik did not answer, she asked him to continue. The story had begun to fascinate her and she wanted to learn as much as possible about this man who truly was an 'angel in disguise'.

"After the initial meeting with Claude and his family, I returned to the Lair. I wanted to know more about these tunnels that ran, it seemed, everywhere under the city, many finding a central meeting spot under the Opera House. What I learned was the tunnels had been carved over centuries and ran almost everywhere under the city. I found the tunnel that lead from the Lair up to the secret door in the room we occupy now. The first time I found the latch that opened the secret panel, I inadvertently came upon a sleeping 'guest'! Thankfully the panel slid silently closed and did not wake him. I would have been hard to explain."

Erik's eyes seemed to light up briefly at the memory this invoked.

"I went through the room and into the hall in search of Claude. I thought he would jump from his skin when I came upon him drinking coffee in the kitchen. But we developed a working 'relationship' and it has continued. When I need to enter the world of the living, I come here. This room is reserved now for my use only and remains empty when I am not here, and the floor is cleared when I arrive. Taking the entire floor on a continual basis would be detrimental to their protection and raise too many questions. Claude provides me with the things I need, and a few services such as my 'banking', shopping and such, and I in turn pay him a salary for these services. He has become my…servant on the outside. I have found a manageable existence that has worked well for several years. And now you know my secret, how I have been able to walk in the world without being seen."

Christine once again heard the pain in Erik's final words. She wondered if she would ever be able to erase that pain and thought that he would have to be willing to let it go first, before she would be able to help. She didn't know if that would ever be possible for him, he had lived with it for so long she knew it had become an almost comfortable friend to him.

Erik had talked for quite some time and Christine did not notice how much time had passed until there was once again a knock on the door. Erik returned to the crack in the door and when he was satisfied with what he saw, he stepped back slightly and opened it allowing Claude to enter once again. His arms were filled with packages, which he placed on the floor next to the table.

Smiling at Erik, he looked very pleased with himself. "Monsieur! I have made some magnifique purchases for you. I'm sure you will be well pleased. Antoinette gave me a list of those things that are needed but unseen. I'm sure everything necessary will be there for your guest. I have relit the fire in the bath so the water will remain hot for you and will be here if you need anything else."

All the time Claude was talking, he was clearing the table and would glance at Christine, never losing the smile that seemed such an integral part of his face. Once or twice, he had winked at her, charming her with his delightful exuberance. She didn't realize until he had left the room, that he spoke of Antoinette helping with a list, and not his wife Angelique.

"Erik…what of Angelique? Claude did not mention her. Does she work outside the inn?"

She watched another dark cloud pass in front of Erik's eyes, but this time it stayed.

"She became sick three years ago. With all of my knowledge from everything I've read regarding medicine, I could not save her. She died a week after becoming sick…I could do nothing for her…"

The pain and anger in his eyes saddened her. She knew from his interaction with Claude that he blamed himself for bringing this tragedy to a family that had been nothing but kind to him. He felt a responsiblity for this family, they had after all been loyal in their service to him. And responsible for Angelique's death although it must have been something for which there was no cure. She knew how brilliant a man he was and had there been a cure, he would have certainly used it.

"You must go and enjoy the bath while it remains hot. No one will bother us on this floor, you needn't worry.

He rose from the table walking to the fireplace and she realized he was dismissing her. She knew this was an attempt to hide what he thought was his own inadequacy. She wanted to reach out to him but understood that, wrapped tightly in the covers as she still was, that it would be difficult to do.

"Don't worry Christine. I'll keep my back to you. You will have your modesty. I will not turn until you've gone."

She rose and with some difficulty in an attempt to stay covered, took one of the packages marked as 'necessities' and another marked 'dress' and excused herself to the bath.

After she had shut the door Erik lay his head on the mantle and wept.

----------

Erik stood for a long time, flashes of the past playing through his mind. His memories of Angelique's death were still vivid as were most of his nightmarish experiences. He had been desperate to save her. He knew what was wrong with her, new what all of the medical books said about it, but he could not cure the disease. It was a poisoning of the blood. She had scratched herself after a bite of some sort, scratched the site raw and it had allowed the disease to enter her blood. By the time Claude had told him about it, the disease had progressed too far. Unable to accept defeat in anything, he had worked tirelessly, using all of the knowledge he possessed but nothing he did could change the course of the disease.

During her last hours, she knew no one in the room, nor where she was or who she was. It pulled at a place inside him he thought dead to the suffering of others. She died quietly that day, a week after Claude had first asked for Erik's help. Claude had been holding Angelique's hands in his own as her soul passed from this world. Erik watched as Claude laid them across her chest and then his head there as well and wept for the wife he loved so dearly.

Antoinette had been standing in the corner and as her father wept, she crossed the room to him and placed her arms around him. "Father, it will be alright. _We_ will be alright."

Claude turned to her and seemed to regain some control as he took her into his arms and hugged her to him.

"Yes, my child, we shall."

Erik felt like an intruder into this family's pain and quietly backed out of the room. He walked down the hall to his own room, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had let this man down. He had failed to save Angelique. Claude had done so much for him and in return he had been able to do _nothing_! Defeated, he entered the secret passage and left them to their grief.

All of this played through his mind as he thought back over the things in his life that mattered. And there was very little, or so he thought. Until today. Christine had opened his eyes today to things in his life that he had never really seen…until now.

----------

Christine had made her way down the hall to the bath. Claude had indeed made a hot bath and she was surprised at the apparatus used to make it. The tub stood on a platform next to a small wood burning stove. The platform raised the side of the tub even with the side of the stove and they touched each other. So long as the fire remained hot in the stove, the water remained hot in the tub. A simple design really but it delighted Christine, none-the-less. What luxury to bathe in water that did not cool or that did not have to be constantly refreshed! She remained for some time, relaxing, alone with her thoughts.

This was the first chance she'd had since the events of last night to really think about everything that had happened. Her Phantom, her Angel of music, this man that she loved…all three were one in the same. She had feared the phantom in him, loved the idea of an angel in him and finally was shown that he was but a man after all. Three separate parts of a living, breathing man that she knew she could not live without. She had been willing last night to give all of herself to him. It was not a trance nor a hypnotic hold by him. It was her own free will. A will that had begun to bloom over the last few months, along with her maturity and her self-awareness. But it hadn't really awakened until last night. When faced with the hardest decision she'd ever made, it all suddenly burst into full flower and she could finally see everything so clearly.

Yes, he'd told her to leave him. And she had always obeyed her 'Master'. But suddenly she knew…it was not what _she'd_ wanted! What she wanted, she realized was him! Raoul had been a sweet boy when she was a little girl. But she was no longer that little girl and she didn't want a sweet boy who still treated her as a child and couldn't or wouldn't look at the woman inside. No, she wanted the man who had helped to mold her into the woman she was becoming. The man who had crawled into her very soul with his music and his voice. She wanted the man who knew her better than she would ever know herself. And that was Erik.

She thought about the things that must have happened to shape this man…the cruelties, the injustices, the horrors this world could subject someone to that was different than them. How could one man's heart be torn asunder over and over and still love as deeply as she was sure he loved her? No, the world had shown him no compassion and yet, she saw the compassion, the love in him when he looked at her. How could that one tiny flame have stayed alive through the terror he must have faced, to burn so brightly when he allowed it to?

She closed her eyes and pondered these things until there was a soft knock on the door. She had only gotten into the tub, hadn't she?

"Christine, are you alright?"

"Yes, Erik. I…has it been a long time since I came down here? I didn't realize how long I'd been in here. I must have dozed off for a moment. I'll be right out." She rose from the tub, toweled off and dressed.

When she returned to the room, she saw that lunch had been placed on the table.

"Erik, we just ate breakfast! I cannot eat every minute!"

"Christine, you have been in there over an hour. I asked Antoinette to check on you twice to make sure you had not drowned!" and he chuckled at the look on her face.

"Really Erik, I would know if I'd slept that long!"

"Look at your hands Christine. They are still wrinkled." He took her hands in his and turned them over so she could see how pinched the tips of her fingers looked. The flame his touch ignited in her burned once again, but she tried to control it as best she could. She wondered if he still felt it too.

"How could I have done that?" She had an incredulous look on her face, as if sleep was something completely new to her.

"It's the warmth of the water. It can lull you into complete relaxation."

"Erik, is the tub your design?" She knew it must be, but wanted to hear him say it. She thought if he could begin to see the good he was capable of, his soul might finally begin to heal. It would take time she knew, and many little things that he never noticed he did, but she was determined that this man would become whole, all three facets becoming one person that would accept her love freely and with no doubts.

"Yes, I had a bit to do with it. Now, if you will excuse me, I will return shortly. Please do not wait for me to eat."

"Erik! Where are you going? You're not leaving me alone?" Her voice was tinged with panic and it both touched and awed him.

"No Christine, I retire down the hall and will return shortly." He lifted her face to him, looking full on her beauty. His heart skipped a beat at the wonder of her. He lowered his face to her and brushed his lips across her cheek, turned and was gone.

Christine raised her hand to her cheek, trying to make the feel of the kiss linger as long as she could.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Erik moved down the hallway, both happiness and dread filling his heart. Christine was here. She had returned to him. He replayed the events of the previous night. She had been willing to give him his heart's desire, but he could not accept it. Not like that. If they were to be one in body as well as mind and soul, it had to be the right way, through marriage. Marriage. What of that? Who would marry a monster to an angel? If they were fortunate enough to find someone who would, then what lay in store beyond that? They couldn't hide here forever. The conditions, although suitable for him for short stays and correct to protect Claude and Antoinette, were not favorable as a long- term residence, and would put them all in danger should he and Christine stay there indefinitely. He had money far beyond what he could ever spend, but it would be no help to him if he was forced to flee. And Claude and Antoinette, what of them should he leave with Christine? He had paid them well for their services over the years and was indeed thankful that they had kept his confidence, but what would they do when he was gone? Business had never been brisk and now, with the disquiet in the city, fewer travelers stopped in the city proper overnight.

Claude had replaced the water in the tub. Erik rarely let his guard down when away from the Lair, but these were new circumstances and the tub looked too inviting for his aches and pains. _Sleeping in a chair is not the best idea for comfort, _he thought as he removed his clothing and stepped into the warm water. He still marveled at the thought that his angel had returned to him. The thought that she risked harm at any moment tempered the joy it brought to his heart. Justified or not, his deeds marked him as a wanted man. Alone, he could travel at his own pace, in the dark. Staying to the shadows afforded him the secrecy he needed and the ability to move swiftly. But Christine could not travel that way. He needed an alternate plan from the one he had devised years ago when he was so sure he would always be alone. His mind began working things through as his body relaxed in the warmth of the tub.

----------

Christine sat at the table stirring a cup of tea that had long ago cooled beyond palatable. What would they do now? Where would they go? She understood that they could not return to the Lair…or could they? Perhaps if they waited a time, it would be safe to go back. Yes, no light penetrated the place. Dark, mysterious…but now, that she'd found her heart at last and knew that it belonged with him, no matter where they were, they would never be in the dark again. _Yes_, she thought, _as long as it is with him, I can live anywhere…_

A soft knock on the door startled Christine. Unused to this room or the sounds the building made left her on edge. She looked through the crack to spy a girl, about her own age, on the other side. She realized it must be Antoinette as she had the same twinkle in her eyes as Claude. Christine opened the door and allowed the girl to enter.

"Madam, I have brought clean sheets and towels for you." Her eyes were alight with wonder. She was a very pretty girl, with long blonde hair and a heart shaped face. Her eyes were very large and round and as blue as the sky on a cloudless day.

"You must be Antoinette. I am Christine. Please don't call me madam. I am no different than you." She watched Antoinette's face as a confused look came over it. "Antoinette, what is it you see? Why do you look at me that way?" The expression on Antoinette's face unsettled Christine as if she were taking stock.

"I am sorry, madam, but I have never seen anyone with Monsieur before. I have heard him speak of his angel to my father, but didn't realize how pretty she – you would be." Antoinette blushed with her statement and looked down.

"Antoinette," Christine said smiling, " I am not madam to you or anyone. I said, I am just Christine. I hope that we can be friends."

Antoinette raised her eyes to Christine and a brilliant smile crossed her face. "Oh madam, I mean Christine, I would like that very much! I am glad Monsieur Erik finally has his angel with him. He seems so much happier now." Christine wondered if Erik would ever be truly happy.

----------

Erik had spent more time in the tub than he anticipated, but didn't realize the aches he felt ran so deep. When he rose from the tub, most of the aches had dissipated. He had devised a plan for them to leave the city. With much help on Claude's part as well as his own ingenuity, it might just work.

The city was experiencing more unrest among it's own people every day. The workingman prepared for an upheaval beyond anything Paris had seen since the beheading of Marie Antoinette and Louis, XVI. Perhaps he could use this unrest to his advantage. People had been fleeing the city for weeks. Even the nobility living in the city were beginning to make other arrangements to retire to their country estates. If Erik could time their escape, he and Christine could flee the city with the other evacuees and not be stopped. The only question was would Claude and Antoinette go with them? He would need them as part of his cover as no one would be looking for three to accompany the Opera Ghost. They would be looking for the Ghost and Christine only. Once they were away from the city, Claude could _be_ Erik Debussy, his eyes, ears and hands. But for Claude, that would mean leaving everything here behind and Erik did not know if Claude would be willing to do that, no matter how well Erik paid him. He would have to speak with Claude before he could finalize things in his mind.

There was a small area of land between the Seine and Villejuif, just far enough outside of Paris to be safe for them all, and still close enough to the civilized world to live comfortably. They would still be able to afford the luxury Erik was accustomed to but live in relative anonymity.

They could travel by night with Claude driving the carriage and Erik, Christine and Antoinette riding inside. He could fix a secure area under one of the seats in which he could hide should they run into trouble. His plan hinged on Claude's willingness to help as much as fate, which had not always been kind to Erik in the past.

----------

When Erik reached the door to their room, he heard voices on the other side. Christine laughed with Antoinette and it lifted his spirit. He loved the sound of it, like the tinkling of rainwater bells after a summer storm.

He entered the room without knocking and Christine jumped from her seat. Antoinette looked at Erik and smiled. She whispered to Christine not to worry, Monsieur could move like a cat, making no sound. Erik overheard and it made him smile.

"Antoinette, - I take it you have become aquatinted with Christine?"

"Oui Erik, and she is lovelier than you described." She winked at Christine and left the room.

As Christine sat back on the chair she smiled after Antoinette. The sight took his breath away. He loved her smile, the way her face lit up and her eyes twinkled. But now was not the time to allow those thoughts as they would lead to others best left asleep.

"Christine, I think I have devised a way to escape the city in safety. But I must speak with Claude before I can give you specifics. Just know that I am doing my best to protect you and get you away." He sat at the table and watched her brows furrow in thought.

"But, could we not return to the lair in a week or two?"

"No Christine." He sighed. "I am afraid we may never be able to do that again." His heart ached for the only safety he had known and wondered the same thing.

"Right now, I must get us as far from the authorities as possible. I will speak with Claude tonight and we will begin to make our plans. If all goes well, within a few days we should be well away from Paris and the danger it holds. But I must ask you something Christine, and I need your answer now."

Christine looked to him as if he would ask her once again, to leave him.

"I will go with you wherever you wish. Please Erik, don't send me away." And her face took on a terrible sadness and fright that he had not intended.

"I am not going to ask you that. If you leave me, it will be of your own free will." He hoped that day would never come. "What I ask is that you not leave this floor without me under any circumstances. Do you understand me? You must not leave alone! This city has too many eyes and ears that would love to receive the bounty on my head should they be able to turn me in to the gendarmes. I cannot afford that happening, for then…" and he stopped speaking. His speech caught in his throat as he tried to give voice to the only real fear he'd ever had. Losing her.

----------

Erik's insistence struck a fresh chord of unease in Christine. She had been so sure they would be free once they left the opera house but now, she wondered. She hadn't thought about those who would turn in their own mothers for offered rewards. This was not a game! This was their future he spoke of and it suddenly became very real to her. Erik stopped and she waited for him to continue. When he said nothing more she said,

"I understand and I will follow your instructions. I do not wish to bring all of Paris down upon us. Not now, when we at last have our chance at freedom, together." She watched Erik's face fill with sadness.

"Erik, what troubles you so? I have no fear of my future as long as it is with you. I know my place now, where I belong. I will not leave you." A look of disbelief crossed his face. Did he not believe her? Could he still not see the love in her eyes when she looked at him? Or hear it in her voice when she spoke to him? She reached to him and touched the unmasked side of his face. She felt him lean into her hand as she caressed his cheek, trying to tell him with her touch how much she loved him. _I will never leave you my love. Nothing will take me from you. _She raised her face to him, willing him to kiss her. Needing him to kiss her, to verify the love she knew he felt for her as well.

----------

As she caressed his cheek and raised her face to him, her eyes pleaded with him to kiss her. He had worked at reigning in his desires last night, both before and again while she slept but the attempt had become futile. He placed his hand over hers and lowered his lips to hers. He felt her breath on his face. So soft, so tempting. As she pushed toward him he turned and brushed her cheek trying to avoid the lips he knew could draw him into heaven or hell. His body had never been so difficult to control before. But the touch of her hand reduced him to his most primal needs and he knew he could not win this fight much longer. He removed her hand from his cheek and turned his face from her as he waged a battle within between love and lust. He could not afford another scene like the night before. One more and he knew he would lose himself to lust completely. Love _must_ win this war once again.

"Please Christine, don't ask that of me." His voice sounded raspy to him, he could only imagine how strained it must sound to her.

"I am sorry, but I cannot allow my emotions to control me, and you bring out the most difficult for me to contain."

He walked to the fireplace. He wanted her, had wanted her for so long. What would _one small kiss_ do now? Perhaps just _one_ this time would stem the ache he felt for her each time he looked at her. Just one, not too much to ask for was it? One kiss he could hold in his heart until they were free to take each other into a lover's realm of wonder and bliss. Just one…

His hand crashed down on the mantle with such force that he thought he might tear it from the wall. In many ways Christine was still innocent and had very little idea of what she was doing to Erik's resolve. But he knew. He turned to face her and saw her look of confusion.

"I cannot touch you Christine, do you not understand that? Not like that. I have wanted you for so long…I cannot guarantee your modesty should this continue. I fight my urges each time I look upon you. Please don't make it harder than it already is." He gazed down at her for a moment, turned on his heel and left the room.

----------

Christine realized with dawning clarity what had just happened. _He wants me, truly wants me!_ But with that clarity also came shame at what she did to him each time she touched his face, or kissed him. _I need to stop tempting him like this, _she thought, _or we may never leave here again! _Knowing that he needed to think clearly or his plan would fail, she resolved to leave him alone until _he_ came to _her_. Though it would be difficult, she could wait for him. He'd waited so very long for her…

----------

More than an hour had passed and Erik had not yet returned. Christine became more anxious with each passing moment. He wouldn't leave her she knew that now. But what if something had happened to him? It had been close to dusk when he'd left. She knew he was normally more than able to take care of himself as he wandered the streets at night. But he had not left clear headed and her worry grew heavier as the dark night closed in.

She felt a sense of foreboding so strong it set her on edge. She had told him she wouldn't leave the floor, but her concern for his safety pulled her strongly and she felt she must do something. She knew he was right about remaining as invisible as possible and how disappointed he would be should he be all right and find she had disobeyed his instructions. He had said he needed to speak with Claude. But he'd been gone for so long.

_Surely no one would see me if I hurry. Just a peek and then back here. I must know he's safe. _She rose from the table and looked out the crack in the door. She saw no one but of course she wouldn't. She remembered Erik telling her Claude cleared the floor cleared when Erik came. Even so, she made sure the hall was empty, her anxiety growing stronger as she moved into the hall. Whether it was her worry over Erik's safety or her fear of being found by him she didn't know. But her unease grew stronger with each step. She made her way hastily, following the directions Antoinette had given earlier in the day. When she reached the end of the hall, she descended the stairs and saw two doors. She couldn't remember which door Antoinette mentioned, but decided to try the left one first. She opened the door carefully and looked around the edge into the tavern room. Patrons in various degrees of inebriation, some holding onto what she realized must be a few of the local prostitutes half filled the room. She slid the door shut, so as to make no noise, blushing. It seemed that human behaviour was the same whether it was a tavern or backstage at the opera house. What she saw here however, was much more blatant. She opened the other door, which showed her a private room. Erik and Claude sat at the table in what looked to be serious discussion.

She never saw the eyes in the tavern that followed her as she had pulled the wrong door quietly closed behind her…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Erik turned quickly at the sound of the door opening. He couldn't believe what he saw. Christine. He'd told her not to leave the floor. Yet here she stood. His first reaction was rage that she would disobey him this way. She could cost them all their lives.

"Christine! What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh Erik…I…I was…forgive me please. I didn't think…it's just that…I was so worried about you. You'd been gone so long!"

Erik felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the disquiet on Christine's face. He never thought she would leave the floor. It seemed he learned something new about her with her every action.

"Christine, I am sorry I caused you such worry. I should have returned to let you know what I would be doing. But you should not have wandered about the inn! I told you we must not be seen!" Erik saw the look of shame that crossed her face and felt his own at causing it.

"Christine, please don't do this again. We must be as careful as possible or we will never be free. Since you are here, come and sit. There is tea on the fire and we are almost finished. I do not want you to return to the room alone." His speech was harsh and unforgiving as she sat next to him. The anger he had shown her was born of fear for her safety. Though he knew it hurt her, he hoped someday she would understand.

----------

Christine didn't know the eyes that followed her though she was well known to their owner. He had seen her several times while working at the opera. As a contract laborer, he was allowed access to any area backstage necessary to perform his job, and he had explored most of them, spotting her early on. She was beautiful and he was determined to have her. The lust he felt for this one went beyond anything he'd experienced before. He took any woman he wanted, whenever he wanted, with no thought if it was right or wrong. To him, women were meant for one thing and one thing only. And this one would be his greatest catch to date. Watching her close the door he knew he'd found his opportunity. Taking a large swig of his ale, he rose from his table and made his way to the door, colliding with several other patrons as he went. He'd had an excessive amount to drink and it was taking a toll on his equilibrium. He reached the door and pulled it open, finding himself in a cul-de-sac with another door across from him.

_How could she have disappeared? She must have gone through this door instead. _As one door closed behind him, he approached the other, his hand outstretched in an attempt to grasp the handle. Suddenly his feet became entangled and he pitched forward falling against the door hard enough to break it from its strike plate. It burst open into the room with him following close behind. He caught a brief glimpse of the people inside before he slammed to the floor, hitting his head with enough force to knock him unconscious.

----------

Erik leapt from his chair, overturning it, as the door crashed open. He watched as if in slow motion, while a man fell through it, crashing to the floor in front of him.

"What the…? Who is this Claude?" he demanded, as the man lay there unmoving.

"I do not know monsieur! He must be one of the patrons from the tavern!"

"Well whoever he is, we must get him out of here. Now!"

"Oui monsieur." Claude replied as he moved toward the man's feet. Erik turned the man over looking at his face. Though Erik didn't know this intruder, he had a strange feeling he'd seen him somewhere. He dismissed the thought as he focused again at the task at hand. Not caring if the man was alive or dead, he grabbed the man's arms as Claude lifted his feet and together they carried him to the back door. Claude dropped the man's feet long enough to check the alley, then they resumed their path out the door. Erik instructed Claude to move as far down the alley as possible. They passed several buildings finally dropping him at the end of the alley, mixing him in with the trash from another establishment. Erik knew he would be considered just another sot from any local tavern and anything this man might say, should he survive, would be taken as drunken dreams at best.

Upon their return to the room, Erik found Christine, still at the table, staring trancelike but it seemed to break as the door clicked shut. She looked at Erik with so much remorse that, for a moment, it was he who felt guilty.

"This is the reason why we must be so careful. Why would that man have entered here? Were you seen? Could he have followed you somehow?"

Christine looked at him hesitating before she spoke.

"I don't know how Erik, I came here straight from the floor. I didn't go anywhere else and I'm sure no one followed me! It must be a mistake!"

"How could his _explosive_ entry be a mistake? He knew what he wanted in here and I'm sure it was you!" He knew he was shouting at her now, but he had worked himself into a rage over her carelessness.

"Erik, please! Don't treat me like this! I have no idea how he knew I was here, unless…"

"Unless what, Christine?" and his voice took on a sinister tone.

"Oh, Erik, I wasn't going to mention it. It seemed so silly. Really it did. I wasn't sure which door to open when I reached the bottom of the stairs. The first I opened led into the tavern. But I barely peeked around the door and shut it again, sure that you couldn't be there. Then I opened this one and that's when I found you. I'm sure no one even noticed me."

He watched the tears well in her eyes but he was too angry to care.

"This could cost us everything, Christine! Do you understand now why I told you not to leave the floor? Hopefully he was too drunk to remember in the morning all that he might have seen tonight. For all our sake's." He turned his back on her and walked from the table.

----------

Christine's first thought after Erik and Claude had returned to the room was to wonder whether the man was alive or dead. She would never wish harm on anyone intentionally, but this man…Erik was right. He could cause them all great harm should he survive and tell what he had seen.

_What a fool I was to leave the floor. Erik was right. Oh God, please let this be all right._

Erik's face was red with anger and his eyes flashed as he demanded an answer from her. Could she have been seen? No, of course not! Unless it was when she had opened the wrong door…

As he stalked away from her, she rose, reaching toward him.

"Erik, I am so sorry…I shan't disobey you again! Please, don't turn from me. It wasn't intentional that I opened the wrong door. Surely you realize that."

Her hand met his back and she felt him stiffen beneath her fingers. She realized his anger and was afraid that now would be the time he would finally demand that she leave him. She wished with all her heart to stay and knew it would break should he force her to leave.

----------

Erik felt Christine's hand on his back and the current that flowed through him was almost unbearable. Too late he remembered how her touch could melt his resolve. He turned and crushed her to him, afraid that he may never have the opportunity again, because of what had happened.

"Oh Erik," she whispered against his chest, "I thought you would no longer want me here."

He moved her face from him to look in her eyes.

"Christine, I can't lose you. I have finally found my heart. To lose you now would kill my heart and life would fade from me. That could easily happen if one of us is seen. You _must_ keep your promise."

"Yes, Erik. I'll not go against your wishes again"

He watched her raise her face to his, tears falling down her cheeks. Seeing the remorse in her eyes pulled at him. Two days ago, he would have not doubted that she would obey his instructions, without question. In some ways, he no longer knew the woman he pressed to his chest.

Realizing once again how his body responded to her touch, he dropped his arms.

"Yes, well…" Erik cleared his throat, "Claude, we must finish all arrangements quickly. It is imperative now that we move as swiftly as possible or I fear all will be lost. First thing in the morning, you will make plans for the carriage. I must return to my former abode to retrieve some items I did not realize I'd need. We must be ready to leave within two days time…and Claude?" Erik hesitated. "Thank you." He watched Claude's eyes twinkle with delight as the older man left the room, allowing Erik and Christine a few moments' privacy.

----------

It wasn't that he'd said 'thank you' to Claude, but the _way_ he said it that surprised Christine. The note of gratitude in his voice was normally missing when one thanked a servant for services rendered. _Perhaps he sees Claude as more than just a servant after all…_

She sat at the table while Erik and Claude finished their conversation and now watched Erik take the seat across from her.

_He looks so tired. _

She thought about how much strain he must be under trying to get them all to safety. It also brought to mind once again how she needed to leave him untouched to keep his mind as clear as possible. He would need all his wits about him if his plan were to succeed.

"Erik, I truly am sorry. I thought of nothing but you when I left the floor. I was so afraid that something might have happened to you. My only thought was to make sure that you were all right."

"And what Christine, would you have been able to do if I wasn't? How would you be able to help me?"

She could say nothing in response to his questions when in fact she had no idea what she would have done. She hadn't thought that far in advance.

"I see you have nothing to say to that."

She watched his expression soften to her and though she knew he was still upset, she also knew he never stayed upset with her for long and wouldn't this time either. She reached out to take his hand but stopped halfway placing her hand back on the table. She cleared her throat as she composed her thoughts.

"You are right. I had not thought about what I would, or could, do for you should I find you in need of help. However, since you did _not_ need my help, and have apparently formed a plan with Claude, will you tell me this plan. Since this affects me as much as it does you, I should like to know where our path lies now."

She listened, as Erik outlined the basics that he and Claude had discussed. There were still some questions that had yet to be answered, but it sounded to her well thought out. Her confidence in Erik was such that she never, in her wildest imagination, expected it to fail…

----------

The next day showed a flurry of activity as they prepared for the flight of their lives. Erik had managed to return to the Lair, unseen, to retrieve those few items he would need to secure his plan. Upon entry, the first thing that met his eyes was the total destruction visited upon his former home. Not caused by the fire above, but by the men below as they hunted him like an animal. Everything that could be, had been smashed beyond repair. The curtains and rugs had been slashed to ribbons as if those who had done it had gone mad in their desire to eradicate the former resident. It might have been the thing that finally broke him but _he had Christine_. Nothing in this world could ever again hold such a precious place. Christine had overrun his heart.

It only confirmed his fear however, and spurred him to quicken their pace. He knew it would just be a matter of time before the authorities began knocking on doors in this area of the city. So far Claude reported they had maintained their search near the Opera House, but when it produced nothing, they would widen their nets. He wanted to be away long before they did that.

Claude had procured a carriage with some of Erik's funds and now housed it in the stable one block over from the inn. Erik had worked on it for some time during the late evening modifying the seat as necessary to give him the hiding place he hoped he would not need.

----------

When the intruder came to, a new day had dawned and passed. He could hear the nighttime sounds of the city, gazing at his surroundings through bleary eyes. When his nose started working again, he knew he was in trouble. In an attempt to stand, his hand reached out and grabbed a pile of someone's leftover dinner from the eatery he'd been dumped behind. Jerking it back, he managed to sit up, regaining enough of his senses to take in his night's bed. Quickly rising to his feet but still half sotted with drink, he clumsily made his way back to his flat, wondering all the time how he'd gotten in the garbage in the first place.

----------

Christine watched Erik as he sat at the table. He'd brought a stack of papers and ink back with him after his trip to the Lair and now worked at filling them with words he said should help in their flight. His face looked strained and his brow furrowed as he focused on the task at hand. She knew he was forging papers. He had explained that they would provide safe passage, no questions asked, should anyone stop them along the way. But they 'must be perfect' he'd said. She knew he was a master artist and prayed that his work would not be in vain. As she quietly set a cup of tea at his side, she realized so engrossed in his work as he was, he hadn't noticed she was even there.

----------

For the first time since he had devised his plan, the enormity of his situation engulfed him. Never had he needed to worry about more than himself. He was no longer responsible for his life alone. Now he was responsible for Christine's along with Claude and Antoinette's as well. Erik knew they would get only once chance at freedom and that chance depended on what he did tonight. Everything must be perfect. If he failed at even one thing, they would all pay the ultimate price.

The hour had grown late when Erik finally finished his work. He'd finished his plans for departure in the morning. They could not afford to travel at night. It would attract too much attention. The only travelers at night were those on official business or who had some kind of dire emergency, and they were scrutinized thoroughly before being allowed to continue their journey. No, it would have to be a flight made in the light of day, in front of the entire city, which none would suspect, or it would not succeed.

They would leave as the city awoke while laborers made their way to jobs they had held for who knew how long. Most likely hating the work they did. In a way Erik envied them. He would have loved to work at a job he couldn't stand. It would have meant he was alive.

Travelers often left at first light to make as many miles a day as possible. They should fit into the busy streets as if they actually belonged there. The edge of the city proper would give them their greatest trouble. There, the checkpoints were well manned and well armed. This would be the test of his skills as a forger. If all went well, they would be at least a day away before anyone suspected the papers were false, if they discovered the forgery at all and he was hoping they wouldn't be.

He had spent the previous night in the room adjoining Christine's. Though he had a bed rather than the chair again, knowing she was so close had been unsettling for him. He could _feel_ her closeness and it brought, once again, thoughts that would be better left buried for now. Twice he had risen from the bed and reached for the door handle. One of those times he turned the knob and looked in on her as she slept. So close, and yet, so forbidden. He closed the door silently and wandered back to the bed, throwing himself on it in frustration. Would the time ever be right for them?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

He woke feeling much better than he had yesterday. Although he didn't remember much of the past forty-eight hours, some of it had returned now that his hangover had abated. _The singer from the Opera House. She was at the tavern. Why would she be there? She was too fine a lady to be in a tavern like that. And what a prize she would have made…_For a moment, his mind swam back to the machinations he'd entertained about her one, no, two nights before. He wasn't sure how long it had been. But he knew he's seen her. _Yes, a fine prize at that…_ He forced his thoughts back to the question at hand._ I do remember seeing her close the door. I went to find her…there was another door, but I fell on it and…wait! She w_as _in that room! I know she was! There were others there, but I'm sure it was she. _He worked very hard at dredging up a bit of information he'd heard right after the fire. _She went missing and they couldn't find her. But I've found her now! And there surely would be a reward for that, wouldn't there?_

The door to the station intimidated him. Huge and ornate, it announced to all concerned that this was the final stop in the chain of command between the gendarmes on the street to the Prefect of Police. Walking toward it, his sense of self-preservation kicked in. He had lived on the edge of the law for years, but the possibility of a monetary reward overrode any fear he might entertain.

Once through the door, he spied a large desk with a gendarme seated behind it. Another stood along side and they looked to be involved in a raucous conversation. He could hear their laughter at the door. As he reached within ten feet of the desk however, all laughter stopped as they stared at him with astonished faces.

"Excuse me monsieurs, but I am in possession of some information you might find interesting."

"Is that so?" the deskman asked, eyeing him up and down.

The first niggling of doubt crossed his mind, but he continued pressing, hoping for the reward he trusted he would win.

"Oui, monsieur. I have brought this information to you because I feel it is my civic duty to do so."

"And I suppose, because you are wondering if the information is important enough, you might get paid?" This brought once again, the laughter of both men, but now it was aimed directly at him.

How dare they laugh at me! Don't they understand how important I am…the information is? They should be grateful that I am even here.

"Well, monsieurs, I understand that the singer from the Opera House has been missing since the fire." He noted that he now had the attention of both men and his self-importance grew.

"Oui, well, " He puffed out his chest, certain now that his information would be rewarded "I can tell you where she is!" He ended his statement with a flourish of his hands and a smug sense of satisfaction, awaiting their rush of gratitude. Instead, what he received was roaring laughter from both men and felt their mocking looks shred his pride. This was not a joke! How could they goad him when he brought such important news to them! His fists curled in anger as he tried to resist his urge to smash both their faces.

"Monsieurs. I did in fact see her, night before last, at a tavern in Low Town. It's connected to the inn run by Claude something and his daughter. She was there as plain as if she were standing before me now!" His bravado began to wane however, as he looked at the disbelief on their faces.

The gendarme standing looked at him with distaste. "And what, _monsieur, _would an opera girl, a _star performer, _of the opera, be doing at a tavern in Low Town? You bring a good joke to us sir! Who sent you?" and his laughter once again filled the foyer.

"Monsieur! I sent myself!" He immediately recognized his mistake by the outraged tone he used.

The gendarme behind the desk stood with such force that his chair tipped over behind him.

"_Monsieur! _You would be wise to keep your anger to yourself! Now, I will give you ten seconds to remove yourself from this building before I throw you out myself!"

Both gendarmes glared at him as he backed away from them, never turning until he'd made it through the door.

_Well! If that's the kind of thanks I get, they can just continue to waste their time looking for someone they will never find! They are too stupid to find a dog on a leash! _He stomped back into the flow of pedestrians, looking for a local tavern to procure his feeling's easement.

----------

Morning brought a sense of urgency to the mismatched group of travelers. The carriage had been loaded with only the most necessary of things, the horses harnessed to it and its occupants seated. A sense of hope and dread filled each heart as they began their journey to life. Christine sat with Antoinette on the forward facing seat. Erik sat with his back to the driver's seat, alone, should he need to 'disappear' quickly. The compartment he had fashioned was small, but would suffice should he need it in a hurry. He would lift the seat, slip below it, and then turn up in a small area behind the coachman's seat. On the outside, there were no odd appearances. Inside, it afforded him just enough room to remain in a half crouched position for as long as he needed. He hoped he wouldn't have to find out how long that could be.

Antoinette gazed out the window as they rode off with Claude in the coachman's seat. Tears fell from her eyes as she looked back at the only home she'd ever known. Though this could prove to be a great adventure for her, and the possibility of a better life- still, she had never known anything else. She was born there; her mother had died there. It was very hard to say goodbye. She prayed this would be the right move for her and her father.

Christine seemed to be lost in thought as Erik watched her with trepidation. _Am I doing the right thing for her? Taking her from a life she loves to an unknown existence with me. Will she be safe? Happy? Will she grow to hate me? God, what have I done? _Erik rested his head against the carriage, closed his eyes, and did something he never thought he'd do. Prayed.

Christine saw Erik watching her from the corner of her eye. He looked so worried, so afraid. She had never seen this side of him and it pulled at her. She wanted to reach out and grasp his hand but remembering his touch and the fires it ignited, sighed and smiled instead. _Was it right that I made myself his responsibility? He has so many now, even if he doesn't see it. He's but one man and there are four of us to consider. Will I be strong enough for him? Will he be safe? Will we all be safe? God, _she prayed, _please help us all…_

They traveled for some time, passing through the city proper. There was a quiet but collective sigh when they realized they would not be passing the Opera House. None of them could have faced the memories it would have evoked.

Due to the unrest in the city, foot patrols had been stepped up in hope that any disturbances would be quelled quickly. Several times, the gendarme would glare at the carriage as it passed, making its occupants nervous. They had hoped they would be able to make it out of the city without being stopped and although there were several carriages exiting, they still felt singled out.

----------

As they reached the edge of the city, Erik's worst fears were confirmed. A checkpoint had been set up at the last possible placement and every carriage was being stopped and examined. He knew they must be looking for insurgents, but also thought they would have been alerted to him and Christine as well.

"Christine, you have the papers?" His question came out in a rush. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him and shook her head yes. He was going to carry them himself, but that wouldn't do if they had been separated. He could 'disappear' quickly; they wouldn't stand a chance.

"You must act as if nothing is amiss. You are traveling with your servants. There is no need to worry. I will be safely hidden." He watched her response to his instructions. They had been over this several times the previous night, but still, she looked very frightened. He remembered another time, not so long ago, when he'd heard her told that everything depended on her. He was angry then, at the boy who put her there, and he was angry now, for doing the same thing. Would she remain brave enough to carry through with their charade? He was soon to find out. He watched a look of fear cross Antoinette's face as well and wondered once again, if his decision was the right one.

Christine watched Erik as his face paled. She knew he feared for them all and hoped she could carry out her act as convincingly as possible, for all their sakes. It all depended on her now. She hated being put in that position just a few days ago, but this was completely different. The last time was to take someone's freedom from him. This time, it was to give freedom to them all.

_God, _she prayed silently, _help me to be as strong for Erik as he is for me. And help me to play my part so we all can get through this safely…_

As she watched Erik enter the hold he had devised, her heart ached again with the love she felt for him. When he turned and smiled at her, she thought it would burst from fullness. _Oh Erik, I will do the very best I can…_

_---------- _

There were only two carriages left in front of them, and the gendarmes were making a thorough search of every one. Christine thought surely they must be able to hear her heart pounding, even with the distance between them. Time passed as if in slow motion. First one carriage, and then the other, was searched and sent on its way. Suddenly, their carriage jerked forward and a moment's panic drove through her mind. _What if this doesn't work? What will happen to Erik, to us, then? Please God, please let this work…_

As one of the gendarmes approached her side of the carriage, she grasped Antoinette's hand and held on with her life.

The gendarme looked at the carriage, which was not in the best of condition and thought this was simply another group trying to leave the city before the real trouble started. Too many skirmishes had already happened in the city, and he had watched carriage after carriage leave with all manner of passenger, from Vicomte, to the poorest citizen. He had been assigned to this duty four days ago, and had been bored with it after the second carriage had passed through the checkpoint. He had grown angrier with each passing hour, believing himself to be far above this type of work. _In fact, _he thought,_ I would rather be back patrolling the streets than to be inspecting these foul smelling, dirty, overfilled excuses for transportation! _He did not include the nobility that had passed his scrutiny. They were the worst of the lot as far as he was concerned and didn't warrant any thought at all. As he approached this one it seemed he was finally dealing with the poor gentility. He had wondered when they'd be coming through…nobility that for whatever reason had suddenly been forced into a life so like the servants they had once employed. This carriage, in poor repair at best, would be an easy search.

"Mademoiselle, your papers, s'il vous plait?" he asked as he poked his head in the window. "You will not be allowed to leave if you cannot produce travel papers." He recognized his rude behavior, but he just didn't care anymore. A young woman held out the papers to him and as he took them, her beauty stunned him. It was a rare treat for him to see natural beauty. The normal titled lady of the nobility usually adorned their self with face paint and powders. This one wore nothing but outshone all he'd seen before. He knew he would not soon forget this one.

Christine gave a quick glance at Erik's now-empty seat. She desperately wanted to see the back of Claude's legs through the window opposite her. Anything to help her confidence. Because of Erik's modifications however, it had been blocked. The only communication she would have available to her were Antoinette's eyes – and her own… _God, here I go _she thought. The forged papers trembled in her hand. He had made her a Baronesse, a title of the Noblesse d'épée. As the lowest title in the line of nobility,

it would be unlikely the authorities would question her station and it would not draw undo attention. Claude and Antoinette were her servants, travelling with her to her Château oustide Paris. They had all practiced what they would say, were they even questioned and Christine fervently hoped now, they would all remember their parts.

"Mademoiselle, you are traveling to the country ? For rest and relaxation, non ?"

Christine's shaded eyes looked every bit the sheltered wife of a noble.

"Yes, monsieur, we are traveling to my family's château and will be gone for several weeks."

The gendarme looked her over once, taking in her hair, eyes, lips, everything that made her such a beauty. His brazen look made Christine quite uncomfortable. But she remembered who she was supposed to be and assumed an indignant look at his obvious leering.

"Monsieur Gendarme. Is there a problem?" she asked as coldly as she could. She drew on every bit of her acting experience to remain calm and play her part as convincingly as possible. The gendarme cleared his throat and looked the papers over.

"Well, Baronesse De Chatel, everything looks to be in order. You have just the two servants with you? The roads can be treacherous these days. Perhaps some _protection_ might be in order?" He raised his eyebrows at the word protection, obviously insinuating more than just an escort.

"I assure you _monsieur,_ we do not need the type of protection you offer, thank you." She tried to be as aloof as possible so as not to incur his wrath, at the same time letting him know she would not tolerate his impudence. She walked a fine line and to cross to the wrong side would be disaster for them all. The gendarme's head snapped back to the papers he held in his hands. His face flushed and he looked as uncomfortable as she hoped he felt.

"I will keep one set of these, mademoiselle, as confirmation that you have cleared this checkpoint. You may proceed, but…be very careful mademoiselle. Accidents happen when one travels. I would hate to see one happen to you." His tone was icy as he handed the second set of papers to her and she realized he was making a veiled threat.

"We will be safe, I am sure, and…thank you." Giving him a winning smile she tapped on the side of the carriage, signaling Claude to move on. The carriage lurched forward, harder than she expected and she bumped her head on the wall behind her. She put her hand to the back of her head and let out a huge sigh. _Maybe we have a chance after all…_

_---------- _

Antoinette sat quietly, in awe of Christine. Her ability to become someone else was amazing. Antoinette had never been to an opera or a play but this was better than any she could ever have wished to see. When the gendarme first approached the carriage, Antoinette's heart had moved into her throat and she couldn't breathe. _Will she be able to make this work? Is she really as good as Monsieur Erik has told us? _As she watched, Antoinette's delight in Christine grew. _She actually has become the Baronesse! This just may work. _Though she didn't drop her guard, she began to have some faith, both in Erik's plan, and Christine's ability to carry it out.

----------

Claude sat stiff backed during the encounter at the checkpoint. He could only hear the gendarme's side of the conversation and it infuriated him to hear this…this scum, treating Christine that way. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the man's face flush and a smile touched the corner of his mouth. _Mademoiselle must have bested him, and he is embarrassed by it! Brava! Monsieur Erik's faith in her was well placed. _He heard the tap on the side of the carriage and reined the horses forward more abruptly than he intended. As they passed the checkpoint and moved into the open country, he hoped their deception had worked…

----------

Erik, cramped into the extra compartment and privy to both sides of the conversation, felt his fury grow almost beyond control. He wanted to burst out of the compartment and wring the man's neck! _How dare he speak to Christine like that, the little toad! He's only a lowly gendarme, one I could break with very little trouble at all!_ He realized he had been holding the seat lever so tightly, it broke off in his hand.

Christine was the only one who could bring both his rage and love to the surface with equal violence. He struggled with both in a feeble attempt to control one or the other.

That tiny bit of sanity he'd felt two nights before showed itself once again and he managed to hold his ire in check. His love was another matter entirely. As he continued listening, Christine's reply confirmed his faith in her abilities, making his heart swell. _My beautiful Christine. My ultimate actress. My love. You have reached your true potential after all…_at that moment he made the most important promise of his life. _You once called me your protector. As long as you live Christine, I promise to be your protector, your shield, and your safeguard forever. Even at the cost of my own life. _

He heard the tap on the side of the carriage just before it began to move again. A smile crossed his face as he realized they made it through the checkpoint.

A mile out of the city, Erik finally felt safe to re-enter the carriage compartment.

"Christine!" He reached across the seat and crushed her to him, fear for her safety and pride in her ability overriding his common sense.

"You were wonderful. He never stood a chance against your charms and ability."

When he felt Christine return his embrace, his body began to respond to her once again. Loath to let her go, he knew, should he continue to hold her, he would easily betray himself to her. He released her, pushing himself as close to the wall as possible, without becoming a part of it. He struggled with his desire to grasp her to him, and his need to see them all safely away. Need prevailed, but it became more difficult with every touch. Closing his eyes, he attempted to calm his racing heart, gripping the front of the seat until his knuckles turned white from the effort.

When he felt he'd regained enough control again, he looked across at both women.

He caught Antoinette's look of amusement and lifted an eyebrow at her.

"You find me so amusing, Antoinette? I am glad that you gain enjoyment from my actions."

"Non, monsieur Erik, it is not your actions, but your reactions that amuse me." She smiled knowingly at him and turned again to watch out the window.

Embarrassed that Antoinette would notice, let alone comment on his reaction, he realized he must take better care at controlling himself.

"Christine, today, your performance was worthy of the finest stage in the world. I fear however, that his threat was not an empty one. We must make haste and get as far from the city today as possible. I do not want to find that we are being followed after all."

He opened the door and stepped onto the side ladder as Claude led the horses in a comfortable trot. He spoke loudly with Claude for a few moments, then returned to the compartment, lithely retaking his seat. Claude spurred the horses into a road gait, hoping to make up as much ground as possible before nightfall.

----------

Erik had been watching Christine and Antoinette sleep. Christine had pillowed her head on his cape, propped against the top corner of her seat. She had convinced Antoinette that her lap was more comfortable than the carriage wall. It seemed to him that in a few days, they had become fast friends and it made him very happy. When the carriage lurched to the side of the road, both women awoke with a start, their eyes round with fear.

"Erik! What has happened?" Christine cried out they came to a halt.

"I'm sure it's nothing, but I shall know shortly." He exited the compartment and met Claude climbing down from the coachman's seat. To their dismay the back wheel on the outside of the carriage had come off its spindle and hung cockeyed against the carriage. Upon inspection, they both realized it looked worse than it was, though it would take several hours to fix. Erik sighed at the prospect of losing all of the ground they had covered to an errant wheel.

"Claude, get the tools from behind your seat and let's get to work. "

When he let both women know, Antoinette's eyes showed worry but she said nothing. He reveled in the confidence in Christine's smile. It still amazed him that she trusted his abilities so completely.

"We will work as quickly as possible. Don't fret. We'll be back on the road soon." He returned Christine's smile and included Antoinette as his eyes swept the compartment. He had taken Christine from the Paris Opera stage, to a damp chamber underground, to an inn that although clean, was by no means luxurious, to a carriage not in the best of shape, broken down on the side of the road, running from a city they both loved. _What have I done to my sweet Christine? _

He turned back to the wheel, working as quickly as possible. With Claude's help, only a little more than two hours passed before they were ready to move on. As Erik looked back over the road once again, he saw a cloud of rising dust. That big a cloud meant two things. More than one rider, and moving fast. In a flash of enlightenment, he knew. _He knew!_ The authorities were coming for them. A carriage could barely outrun a lone horse and rider under the best of circumstances. This carriage had seen better days already and he hoped it would hold together as they ran for their lives.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When the guard at the checkpoint changed, the commander came out, surprising the gendarme who had taken Christine's papers. _What can he possibly want with any of us? Arrogant bastard! He never gives us the time of day! Why now?_

The commander strutted to his men, as self-important as ever, but with a look of anger on his face.

"I was informed this morning that one of our local sots claims to have seen our kidnapped opera singer."

The gendarme looked at him with innocence.

"And how would that pertain to us, sir?" he asked, with what he hoped was just the right amount of humility in his voice. The commander looked him up and down, a sneer marring his face.

"What that would have to do with you, man, is that one of the deskmen took the information offered yesterday as a joke! No one thought to notify me until this morning. Since we are treating it as the kidnapping it appears to be, I want to know if anyone who has been through this checkpoint has raised your suspicions. Has anyone come through who might have fit her description?"

The gendarme noted the commander's accusatory look, aimed at himself. _I have done nothing to warrant this _he thought. _Why would he pick on me? _

"Non, commander. Only those traveling on normal business." He thought of the Baronesse knowing she hadn't come through on _business_, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"That is all? No one out of the ordinary? No one who might fit _this_ _description_?" He produced an exact likeness of Christine from his breast pocket. The gendarme gasped. Exquisitely rendered, the line drawing portrayed her face exactly as he had seen it earlier in the day. Gulping back his astonishment, he looked at his commander, wide-eyed and anxious.

"Oui commander. I did see that woman pass here. I have a copy of her papers right here, sir." He quickly thumbed through the stack on his little table.

"Oui! I have found it! But this was not an opera singer sir. This was a Baronesse. I saw no reason to detain her sir. She seemed…she seemed authentic!"

"Fool! I am surrounded by fools! Was she alone? Who was driving her carriage?"

The gendarme briefly remembered her treatment of him and his anger got the best of him.

"Now that I think about it sir, her carriage was in great disrepair. And she had two servants traveling with her though her papers were only for her and no one else."

"Get me six good men and the fastest horses you have here. How long a head start do they have?"

"Several hours by now, sir. They passed by here early this morning."

The commander threw his hands up in exasperation. Grabbing the gendarme by his collar, he looked him in the eye.

"You had better hope we can catch them man, or it will be your head in the noose!"

----------

Claude pushed the horses to their limits as they raced down the road in their attempt to outrun the authorities, but to no avail. Each bend in the road brought the pursuers that much closer to them. He estimated no more than 3 kilometers separated them now. Erik had climbed back into the carriage at Claude's insistence. He told Erik that he could handle the horses better without company, thank you very much, and shoved him off the seat before Erik had a chance to protest. Christine and Antoinette looked at Erik with unmasked fear. He knew both must be afraid they would perish at any moment. He had faced death without fear many times and would do so now. Would he win this time as well? He feared not the loss of his life but of his Christine. The thought constricted his heart and brought him the only true fear he'd ever known.

The carriage bounced harder with each passing kilometer and tossed its occupants about as well. Christine hit her head a second time and Antoinette had sustained a large gash on her arm when she connected with the door handle. Erik had tried to pull them both to him in an attempt to steady them all, but it proved futile. The carriage rattled too badly for him to hold even his own seat. Both women screamed as Erik shouted to them.

"We must abandon our carriage and make a – " but his shout was cut of by the sound of the carriage breaking apart.

----------

Completely lathered, the horses showed their fatigue. Claude had a devil of a time keeping the carriage in the middle of the road and the pain in his arms grew worse with each jerk of the reins. As he peered past the horses he spied what he feared most. A huge depression crossed the road from side to side. Seeing no way to bypass it, and not knowing how deep it was, he could only pray the carriage would hold.

They hit it head on each wheel sinking as the carriage passed through almost to the hub. The horses were fast enough to clear the hole, but their jump tore the reins from his hands, as their harness broke free of the carriage. Grabbing at the seat, he heard the crack and felt the repaired wheel rip from its hub. For an instant the momentum of the carriage kept it upright. In a surreal vision he watched the horses fly off in a flat gallop. Then the carriage hit another rut. Claude pushed himself free of his seat as the carriage began its side-over-side spiral across the road and into the brush. He landed on his face, as he tumbled through the rubble at the opposite side of the road, he caught a brief flash of the carriage as it continued to flip over and over into the brush across from him.

Claude pushed to his feet but as he forged across the road his ankle gave way. _It must be broken. No matter now. I must see... _He got to his feet again, this time limping to where the carriage entered the brush. It lay about 15 meters in, on its side and half broken. Claude hobbled to the side, trying to discern if anyone inside still lived. _God, please…Antoinette…_He stood looking for some time before looking around the area. He spied Erik not far from the carriage. His mask had flown off and his face was covered in blood. Claude approached him with trepidation. _Surely, he must be dead, there's so much blood. _When he knelt and reached for him, he found that Erik had a pulse and was breathing. A huge gash in his forehead flowed freely. He tore a piece of Erik's already ripped shirt, folded it and pressed it to his head. Gently shaking his shoulder he tried to get Erik to wake enough to hold the shirt himself.

----------

Erik's eyes fluttered and he fought the urge to close them forever. The insistent shaking brought him slowly but reluctantly back. He looked into Claude's face and memory came pouring back to him. Their flight, the noise, the spinning…he tried to get to his feet but his head swam with the effort.

"Monsieur, lay still. I must…my daughter…Christine."

He turned from Erik and once again, scanned the area. Erik grunted and laid his head back on the ground. The look on Claude's face spoke volumes. _Oh, Christine…_Erik's heart began to pound with the knowledge that she must be…

"Claude," he rasped, "does she live? Please! Tell me she lives."

Claude turned to him, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know monsieur. They are not there. They are gone!"

----------

Christine and Antoinette clung to one another as the carriage broke apart. At the first flip, they were thrown together out the door and landed several meters from the carriage's final resting place. Antoinette was the first to gain her senses. Sitting up, she felt every bump and bruise she would soon show. Her first thought was of her father. _Is he alive? _She spied Christine a meter or so from her and crawled to her. Her eyes were closed and her arm was turned at a frightening angle. _Dear God!_

"Christine. Christine! You must wake. We need to get out of here…Christine!"

Antoinette grasped Christine's hand and began to rub it roughly, hoping the contact would revive her. _Please Christine. You have to get up. We're in danger if we stay!_

_----------_

Christine moaned and began to stir. She tried to move her arms to sit, but her right arm wouldn't work and the pain in her shoulder was almost unbearable. It brought her awake with a start. Looking up at the sky, it took her a moment but her memory flooded back.

_Chased. We were chased. The bouncing. The spinning…Oh God…NO! _She grabbed Antoinette with her good arm, the pain flaring in her damaged shoulder.

"Antoinette…the carriage…falling…Erik! Where's Erik!"

The panic and fear in her voice increased Antoinette's own but she knew they must find a place to hide as soon as possible.

"Christine, I will help you up. Do you think you can walk? We must hide, _now_."

"Yes, I think I can walk, but my shoulder…there is so much pain. Erik! What of Erik? I must find him, he has to be all right."

"Christine, we have no time. My father is out there as well, but we _must go _and pray that God will watch over them. Come, please!"

Antoinette helped Christine to her feet, put Christine's good arm over her shoulder and together, they moved as quickly as possible through the brush. Christine glanced over her shoulder, her heart aching for some knowledge of Erik's condition. Antoinette kept her eyes forward, tears running down her face, knowing where her father had been seated, he must surely be dead.

----------

Erik's head swam. Had he heard Claude correctly? Not there? _What does he mean not there?_ _Oh Christine…don't… die…Christine… _As he lost consciousness once again, Christine's face looked down on him and he watched her smile as she faded away.

----------

The horses pounded the road with so much force that to anyone within earshot it sounded like thunder. The sound reflected the Commanders emotions as they raced after the carriage. _The opera singer! He let her slip past without any thought to it. _The gendarme who let them pass had said she acted exactly like any other titled lady would act toward him. He had no reason to suspect anything other than what he saw.

"No Commander, there were only three. A man driving and a woman with her in the coach. I thought she was a servant sir."

Upon further questioning, the gendarme revealed that both the man and the girl were clothed in normal street attire, not the uniform one would expect from household servants.

_Servant! _Thought the bewildered Commander. _Where do they find so many men with no brains to be the protectors of our city?_

"No sir, she did not look as if there was anything out of the ordinary…Yes sir, she did look nervous but I thought it was because she was so young…No sir, I really didn't get a look at the driver and no one else paid attention to him either."

_God save me from the 'thinking' gendarme! _They spurred the horses on, soon spying their prey. The rising cloud of dust a few kilometers ahead, gave the Commander hope that they were not too late. Driving the horses as hard as possible, he knew they would have to overtake the carriage eventually. He hoped that would be before the horses dropped from exhaustion. To liberate the little opera girl would mean much for his promotion prospects and he intended to go far on the force. _In fact, to the top, if possible_. She would be the stepping-stone he needed to do just that.

----------

Claude heard the approaching horses and knew he hadn't much time. He scouted the area as much as his ankle would allow, but saw no sign of either girl. When he returned to Erik, he said,

"Monsieur Erik, you must try to stay awake and get up. We must leave. I fear it is the gendarme that approach with such speed."

He could see Erik making an attempt to rise, but each time Erik lifted his head, he would moan Christine's name as his eyes rolled back in his head. Claude knew now, there was no hope of escape for either of them. He had pledged Erik his life the night Erik had returned Antoinette to them. He told Angelique that Erik would be their responsibility for as long as they lived. He would not betray that pledge now.

He had little time and a useless ankle. There were bits and pieces of clothing scattered about the area but he couldn't do anything about that now. He had no idea what to say about the women's clothing, but he would think of something. His worst fear was Erik's safety now. He had no idea where Antoinette and Christine were. He could only hope they had heard the horses and had escaped as best they could. He seated himself at Erik's head, cradling it in his lap. Pressing the cloth once again to Erik's wound, he prayed that God would give them all a measure of safety as he devised a possible chance for them.

----------

It didn't take the gendarme long to overtake the two men. One look at the scene told them they had missed more than just a bit of the story involved. Clothing of all types lay strewn about, including women's items. The carriage was a disaster, the horses were gone and there were two men where two women and a man should be!

_What is this? _He thought as he saw his hopes for promotion disappear before his eyes. _Could this situation get any worse?_ He ordered the two men up on their feet. When Claude failed to move he had his men _assist_ them. Two officers had no trouble lifting Claude, but Erik was another matter. Intimidating in stature when awake, unconscious, he was dead weight. Three of the other men dragged him up off the ground trying to support him in front of the commander. A piece of a woman's underskirt wound around Erik's head and he was covered in blood. The Commander did his best to elicit a response, but knew already, judging from the blood loss, that it would fail. The Commander turned his glare on Claude. He motioned for the gendarme at the checkpoint to come closer and look at both men.

"Well? Are either of these the coachman? Take a good look now, don't want another _mistake_ made." His sarcasm stung the gendarme as he looked closely at both men.

A bandage covered one man's face, but he studied Claude carefully. He shook his head regretfully.

"Non, Commander. I cannot say he is or isn't. I…ahem…never really got a good look at him sir."

"You mean to tell me, as your job to inspect each carriage passing the checkpoint, you didn't _look_ at the passengers or drivers? Or was it the woman in this particular carriage who evaporated your brain? Can you at least tell me for sure if this is the carriage you _inspected_?"

"Commander, there isn't enough of it left to tell. I do not know."

The Commander watched the man shrink before his eyes. He knew there would be no information forth-coming and wished with all his heart he were dragging _him_ to the Bastille instead of the two in custody. Accident or no, there were too many unanswered questions and they needed detaining. The Bastille would be a good choice for them both.

The Commander eyed Claude angrily.

"What is going on here? Who are you? Who is this man?" He waited for an answer but none came.

"Did you not hear me? _Who are you_!" Again he waited for an answer. All he could get from Claude was a blank stare.

"What are you? Deaf?" When there was still no answer, the reality of the situation dawned on him._ No wonder I'm getting no response. _Claude continued to stare at the Commander blankly as if he had no idea what the man wanted. The Commander threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"Tie them both, throw them on one of your horses, and let's get back to the city with our _prize_s before nightfall."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Antoinette managed to get herself and Christine hidden before she turned to look back at the devastation they had survived. She couldn't see much of the carriage, but what she could showed very little left intact. She imagined what would have happened had they been inside. Her tears ran freely again as she thought of her father's fate. He was her only family.

As she gazed over the site, she saw the men who had been chasing them come upon the accident. They wore the standard agents de police issue, but one was dressed in the uniform of a higher rank. _He must be the leader, the commander of the troop. But why would such a high-ranking officer come with them? They must have known about Monsieur Erik. _That Christine was the prize they sought never entered her mind.

----------

Christine sat on the ground, her back against a tree, in agony. Antoinette said her shoulder must be dislocated. She was sure however that it was broken, it hurt so badly. She watched Antoinette, looking for any sign of hope in her friend's face. Instead she saw fear as Antoinette spotted the approaching men.

"Antoinette, do you see anything of Erik? Of your father? Can you tell who the men following are?" fear filling her whisper.

"No Christine." Antoinette's frustration was evident. "I cannot see Monsieur Erik or my father. But the men are les agents de police. One of them is of a high rank. I can only think it is because of Monsieur Erik."

Christine's heart froze. _Erik! What would they know of Erik?_ The whole city should think him dead since the fire. No one could have survived it, according to the reports. _But that's not true. Of course, he'd gone back. They would know he'd survived. Oh Erik. _

"Antoinette, what else do you see? What are the police doing now? You _must_ be able to see _something_!"

"Shhh, Christine!" She hissed back. "Something troubles them, I think. The commander looks very upset."

Christine put her head back against the tree, wondering what was happening. Did Erik live? Had they found him? They would surely kill him if they did. She turned her face to Antoinette and her pain paled in comparison to the grief on Antoinette's face.

Please, please Lord, let this not be as terrible as it all appears. Poor Antoinette. Don't let her father be dead. Erik…oh Erik…

----------

"Que Dalle!" Antoinette hissed. "Christine! It is my father! And monsieur Erik! The police have them. They live…they live…" The tears flowed down her face as she turned to Christine. Though Antoinette's eyes swam, she saw the smile of relief on Christine's face.

"Are they all right Antoinette? Are they hurt? Help me up, I must see."

Antoinette crouched low, to help Christine hobble to her vantage point, where they held each other for support and watched as the scene played out in front of them.

"Antoinette! Erik! He wears a bandage and he is covered in blood! Mon Dieu Antoinette! What will happen to them?"

----------

The Commander ordered a cursory search of the immediate area, not realizing how close he had come to finding Christine. His men loaded Claude and Erik on one of the horses and two of his men shared another. He glanced at his prisoners as they made their way back to the city, taking care to walk the horses. If the horses did not cool after their flat-out gallop, the Commander would be walking along with the rest of the group. Their long return trip would give him time to think as to why there were two men and no women.

There had been at least one woman, that is sure. Why would they carry a valise with women's clothing if there were not? The bandaged man, could he be a highwayman? Perhaps he stopped them to rob them but found the women more enticing than money…Non! Who would have bandaged his face, unless the two men were working together… The Commander's thoughts ran on this way until they reached the city.

----------

Claude sat stiff-backed upon the horse. They had removed the saddle to better throw Erik across the horse's back and he now lay in front of Claude, partially resting on his legs. He had not regained consciousness and Claude feared his position might kill him on the ride back. Now however, he could see Erik's erratic breathing and though he worried about his well-being, he set his mind to matters at hand.

So far, so good he thought as he remained close lipped. They think me deaf. Their stupidity works in my favor. What now? They are taking us to the little Bastille. We will have no hope once they have us inside. I must try and prevent that, but how? My ruse will only work for so long I fear. Oh Antoinette my child, you must live. And Christine. If you are dead, better Monsieur Erik should have died too. Your death will surely kill him .

----------

Christine and Antoinette regained their footing and had been walking for some time. Though their combined injuries required frequent rests, they both knew they must continue. Antoinette limped with the pain in her hip, and Christine cradled her arm in an attempt to keep her shoulder from moving. No woman wished to travel after dark at any time, let alone in the current climate of the country.

After walking about 2 kilometers, they heard something approach from behind. Christine turned to see a plain carriage with a lone coachman and two horses. When he had come within a few meters he stopped and looked carefully at the two women.

"It would appear you have had some trouble and are in need of a ride." He spoke gently and with kindness and Christine smiled in gratitude.

"Oui monsieur. We had a carriage accident quite far back on the road. We are both injured and would be most grateful if you allowed us to ride with you." She watched his face as she spoke. Though old and lined it showed a kindness she was sure must reflect the kindness of his heart. She watched his eyes widen as realization washed over him.

"Bon Dieu! That was your carriage I saw? Mms, of course you may ride. Let me help you."

Christine watched as he climbed down and helped Antoinette into the carriage. Short and wiry, he looked to be a man who had worked hard all his life. But his actions made his concern for them palpable. A wave of gratefulness for this stranger's humanity moved through her. However, when he began to help her he took her arm and she cried out in pain.

"Mademoiselle, I am so sorry! I did not realize…please forgive me." His own pain at causing any to her etched his face.

"You did not know, monsieur. I will be fine." He helped her into the carriage as gingerly as possible. When she was seated she smiled.

"Monsieur, I do not know how far into the city you plan to go. But do you know of the little inn owned by Claude Briguere, in Low Town? If you could take us as close as possible, we would truly be grateful"

"I can do more than that mademoiselle. I can take you to the front door!" A huge grin crossed his face and Christine saw how pleased he was with himself that he could assist them. Christine's however, paled immediately and his grin disappeared.

"Mademoiselle? What is wrong? Is that not what you want?"

"Nothing is wrong, monsieur," she said as she tried to regain her composure "But the back door or the end of the alley would suffice thank you."

For a moment he looked at her quizzically, then she watched realization cross his face and he grinned again.

"They do not check who enters the city. They are only interested in keeping people in. We should have no trouble when we enter. And so, your wish is my command." He bowed with a flourish as he closed the door. Christine felt the carriage's movement as he regained his seat and they began to move. She looked at Antoinette, settled on the seat across from her.

"Once we get back to the inn Antoinette, what will we do?"

Antoinette only stared back at her with complete weariness and a face covered in dirt smudges. Christine had never seen a woman's face so dirty except for makeup when on the stage. The tension of the day finally got the best of Christine and she began to laugh, drawing Antoinette into her uncontrollable mirth. They laughed until they both leaned their heads against their seat and dropped into a fitful sleep.

----------

As they approached les police headquarters Claude realized they would not be taken to the main prison affectionately known as the Little Bastille by the gendarmes but to the smaller cells housed inside headquarters. _A cell in this building might prove to be much easier to escape. I'm sure Monsieur Erik will be able to come up with a plan of some kind. He must, or we are doomed._

----------

The Commander glared at his prisoners as they approached headquarters. _Keeping these two here may give me a better chance at discovering what actually happened. If I can get the information I need, perhaps I can still bring in the little opera girl. No one found her at the scene so she could still be alive. I may still see my promotion come to fruition. _The thought made him smile and his day got a little brighter. _I may be able to accomplish something here after all! _As they came to a halt in front of the building, the Commander began to formulate a plan.

"Get them off the horse and into the building as quickly as possible." He barked. "I want as little attention brought to them as possible. A crowd in this climate only causes trouble."

As the Commander watched, one gendarme dragged Claude off, barely allowing him to keep his footing. Two others pushed Erik to the ground. Although he landed on his back, he didn't move, nor did he seem to breathe. The Commander watched his hopes for promotion once again slip from his hands.

"Kill him before we can question him, and you will all follow him to the grave!" he shouted. His men hurried to jerk Erik off the ground and as they lifted him, the Commander watched him take first one breath, then another until, although it came in ragged starts, he breathed none-the-less. Dragging Erik into headquarters, his toes scuffing along the ground, and two other men pushing Claude ahead of them, they made as much haste as possible into the building.

Entering the foyer, the Commander barked orders at the information officer. He wanted the prisoners taken to a solitary cell. Solitaries were cells with no outside windows and solid doors save for the food slot and examining window. The thick walls kept the prisoners from communicating with each other. With a bit of straw in the corner and a hole in the floor for relief, the cells were damp, odorous, filthy and the least 'hospitable' of all the cells. The commander was sure that, should there be any information to be had, he would get it quickly in exchange for moving them to a slightly less offensive cell.

He watched as the officer led those who were holding Erik and Claude down the hall. Erik had still not regained consciousness, which worried him a bit, but he felt he would be victorious in his endeavor to find the answers he needed. After all, should the man with the bandage die, he could always find a way to get what he wanted from the deaf man. Thinking of those ways warmed him and made him smile…_Even if I do not get the information I desire, I will certainly enjoy the efforts to extract it._

----------

As the door slammed shut behind them, Claude knelt next to Erik and tried to better assess the damage. A single candle lit the dark cell, making Claude's task difficult. Erik sprawled on the straw, tossed there like so much garbage. Claude was furious at their treatment of him, but knew that to show any emotion at all meant his ploy would be for nothing. He intended that they think him deaf, mute and dumb. Perhaps they might speak openly while around him. Information was always a rich tool, and he had become a master at using it through the years he'd worked with Erik. He had been Erik's eyes and ears to the outside world and had honed his craft to perfection.

Removing Erik's makeshift bandage, Claude looked at the gash that ran down the marred side of his face. It was not deep and ironically, probably would leave no scar of its own, but the quantities of blood made it seem much worse than it was. Claude could not understand Erik's failure to regain consciousness. He saw no visible knots, bumps or abrasions about Erik's scalp and worried that the injury might be the type that one doesn't wake from. As he began to probe further Erik's eyes popped open and Claude jumped back in shock.

"Claude, although I have allowed you from time to time, to see me without my mask, I would appreciate it if you would not go poking around."


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, I do not own the main characters of Leroux' story. I do own the plotline. Yada, yada...

Thank you all for your great reviews. What a rush for someone who's not a writer!

Chapter 9

Claude studied Erik for a moment as he tried to collect himself.

"Monsieur Erik! You are all right. I don't understand. They had to drag you. I thought you would be out for hours…" As he continued to stare at Erik, realization hit him and he laughed.

"Monsieur Erik! You played the great joke on our captors. How long were you aware of what was happening to…" But Erik interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"We don't have much time, Claude, before they come looking for the information they want. And they want something or they would have left us where we were. I don't think they were searching for us."

Claude thought for a moment

"I think I know Monsieur! They must have been searching for Mademoiselle Christine. But why would they be looking for her? She has done nothing!" He watched a multitude of emotions play across Erik's face.

"Monsieur, what has happened that they should be so concerned for her? I thought you told me she had followed _you_. If this is so, why would they be looking for her?"

"It is true she was with me because she had followed me, yes. But…she is betrothed to another. A man who's family is very powerful. If anyone seeks her, it would be him. I would matter little to him whether she left him freely or not. He will not be happy until he has her back. Killing me in the process would be an extra delight. I fear, Claude, that is the reason they search for her."

"But Monsieur Erik, we can just explain…"

"Explain Claude! And how would you explain me? A man with half a face. What do you think they would do? No, Claude. For now, my being unconscious and bandaged and you're playing deaf will only help us to better eavesdrop on their plans. _And keep me unknown to them. _Then we will know better how to proceed. More importantly, did you see Christine? Or Antoinette? I know they were not in the immediate area or the gendarmes would have found them. Do they live? Christine _must_ live!"

Claude watched the strongest, most intimidating man he had ever known, reduced to sorrow and despair in his worry over his Christine. He understood the emotions as he worried over Antoinette as well. _Not in the immediate area or the gendarme would have found them…_

"Monsieur Erik, they were not found, it is true. Perhaps they were tossed from the carriage some ways back and managed to get away."

"Where would they go?"

----------

The little carriage pulled up at the end of the alley. The coachman descended to open the door to his passengers, and helped Christine and then Antoinette to the ground.

"Mlles, it is quite dark. I do not feel right leaving you here. At least let me accompany you to the door."

"Non, monsieur" Antoinette said, "you have already been too kind. We will be fine. It is a short walk from here and I know this area well."

"But mademoiselle, you are both hurt. You limp and the other young lady has a bad shoulder. You could not protect yourselves should the need arise!"

"I know you are concerned for us. You have already been so kind." She replied. "But we really will be just fine. We thank you for your kindness and your help. We would still be walking if not for you."

"Or worse mademoiselle. I could not leave you on the road alone. I have daughters of my own." He smiled, his love for his daughters evident on his face. They suddenly understood his keen interest in their welfare.

"My name is Jacques Legard. I live but the next block over. If you should need anything…"

Christine and Antoinette returned his smile and walked down the alley. He watched them for some time, wondering what they walked away from, or might be walking into.

Antoinette opened the back door to the inn and peaked around it. Although Claude had told the guests they must leave the day before, it was not unusual for squatters to move into a place that looked deserted. They had had enough excitement for one day and she wished only for a hot bath and sleep to renew her for what lay ahead. Helping Christine, she made her way down the hall. Their luck held and they were alone. Stopping at Christine's door, Antoinette opened it for her and helped her to the bed.

"Christine, we must get your dress off. I need to see your shoulder. If it is dislocated, we will need the doctor to put it back in place. Monsieur Erik could do it but he is not here." She realized immediately that she should not have mentioned him as she watched Christine's eyes fill with tears.

"Oh Christine, I am sorry. But we know that at least for now, they still live. After a night's rest, we will be able to figure out what to do. I know we will." She watched as Christine gazed at her, sorrow filling her eyes along with the tears that now fell down her face.

Antoinette helped Christine out of her clothes, doing her best not to disturb her shoulder any more than she had to, but it was impossible to do it pain-free. Once undressed to her undergarments, Christine lay back against the headboard and thought about the events of the day while Antoinette went to start the water heating for the bath.

Oh Erik, I know everything that has happened is my fault. I made so many mistakes. I should have gone back with Raoul and told him my feelings. I could have made him understand somehow and left him freely then. But I would not have known how to find you and I couldn't bear to be parted from you again. Those three months you were gone made me realize how much a part of me you are. I thought you were gone forever and then to see you at the Masquerade. My heart began to sing again. But Raoul made me think you wished me harm and that he was the right choice. I was so sad and confused. And I should never have let him talk me into exposing you to the world. Why you don't hate me for that I do not know. And now what? What do I do? I'm so tired. I just want you here, with me, holding me. Erik…Erik…

Antoinette knocked softly but got no response. Opening the door, she saw Christine, propped against the headboard, sleeping. She looks so peaceful. Perhaps I will let her sleep for a bit. I don't think it will make much difference to her shoulder right now. It can't possibly hurt any worse. She slowly closed the door and returned to the bath. Stripping her clothes, she climbed into the tub and immersed herself in the hot water trying to soak away the pain in her badly bruised hip. Just a little soak, and then the doctor. Just a little soak…She closed her eyes and fell into a fitful doze.

Christine woke to a throbbing pain. Her shoulder ached much more than when she first laid down. Opening her eyes, she saw a man's face hovering over her own. For a moment she thought she was dreaming. But when he smiled and spoke she remembered where she was and how she was dressed. Or actually - not dressed. She tried to sit up, but the pain in her shoulder made her head swim and she lay against the bed.

"Please mademoiselle, lay still. You are appropriately covered with the blankets, not to worry. I am not here to harm you. My name is Dr. St. Aubrey. Mlle Antoinette brought me to look at your injuries. They are minor for the most part, but your shoulder is dislocated as she feared. I will need to put it back in place Mlle, but it will be very painful. I will not hide this fact from you. Do you feel you will be able to stand a second's pain for immediate relief?"

Surely the pain she felt now could not get any worse. She nodded weakly, knowing it would be much worse for him to mention it.

Antoinette brought a glass to Christine's lips, allowing her to sip some of the brandy it contained. Its sweet taste warmed her as she swallowed.

"This will help you Mlle, with the pain you will feel. Please drink as much as you can."

Christine was not a drinker, and although it was sweet, it burned slightly as well. But she managed to drink a little more. She closed her eyes and waited for the doctor to begin, dreading what was to come and wishing the brandy would work faster.

"Now Mlle, I want you to tell me why your shoulder is in such a state."

He spoke to her with an authority she could not dismiss, but she was surprised that he asked. She assumed Antoinette would have told him what had happened. As she began, he interrupted her, telling her to look at his face as she spoke. She looked into his eyes and started again. As she sank into her story, her mind wandered back to the events of the day and she began to tell him what had happened.

The doctor held her eyes while he prepared himself for what he must be do. Years of experience had taught him the best way to set her shoulder was to keep her mind on something else, and to set it as quickly as possible. He placed one practiced hand at her shoulder and another at her upper arm, almost touching, but not quite. When he felt sure she was engrossed in her story, he quickly pushed her shoulder with one hand while twisting her arm with the other. In a moment, he had finished the job, eliciting a small yelp from his patient, more from her surprise than pain. Watching her face, he saw her astonishment, then her relief that the majority of the pain had gone. As he placed her arm in a sling, he spoke.

"Well Mlle, that should heal in two weeks or so, but you will have to keep your arm in a sling during that time and promise that you won't use it at all. I'm sure I can rely on Mlle Antoinette to make sure you follow doctor's orders."

Christine thought for a moment that his stern orders sounded very angry, then realized that his eyes twinkled as he spoke them. Antoinette smiled at him.

"Oui doctor, I will see that she follows your instructions completely!" Winking at Christine, she led him out the door.

Christine looked questioningly at Antoinette as she approached and then sat on the edge of the bed, and smiled weakly.

"Antoinette, what if the doctor puts my story together with the events of the past few days? I'm not even sure what I said to him. The pain was terrible." She didn't want to acknowledge the brandy loosening her tongue as well.

"Do you think he would go to the authorities?"

"Non Chère, he has been our doctor as well as our friend for many years, since my grand-maman was ill. We can trust him. I am certain of that."

"Antoinette, what of your injuries? How do you feel?"

"The doctor examined me and pronounced me bruised but fit."

Christine looked at her with a shocked expression.

"Antoinette! You let the doctor examine you? Alone? Just him and…and you?"

"Oh Christine, don't be such a ninny. He's a doctor after all! And what was I to do? I didn't want to wake you and it was only my hip."

Christine blushed at the thought of the doctor seeing Antoinette's naked hip. Then thoughts of her first night in this room with Erik seeped into her mind and her blush deepened considerably. She looked up to see Antoinette's questioning eyes, but neither spoke. Finally, clearing her throat, Christine took the initiative.

"Antoinette, I have an idea how to help your father and Erik. I need your thoughts on the matter. I think it will work but we will have to move quickly."

She proceeded to lay out her plan while Antoinette listened in silent surprise.

----------

Claude had bandaged Erik's head once again and together they sat in the straw throughout the night, heads against the wall, attempting to sleep. While Claude quietly snored Erik's mind raced over the different scenarios that could now arise. They had decided that he would remain 'unconscious' for as long as possible before he aroused suspicion. Claude would play the 'fool' and hopefully, their ploy would buy them some time. But time for what? For once, Erik had no idea what he was going to do to better their situation. How do we get out of here? I can overpower one or two guards, but what then? We would still have to get out of the building. His thoughts turned to Christine. His worry over getting free paled in comparison to his fear for her safety. What had happened to her? Was she all right? God, you know until today, I had given up on you. But please, if you haven't given up on me, please, don't take Christine from me. Keep her safe God. I can't live without her. I thought I could, when I told her to leave, but I was only fooling myself. God, you brought her back to me. Please don't take her from me now…

Erik sat in contemplation for some time considering what he could do when a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

Some time later they both heard the lock turn and the door swung open. Two gendarmes entered the cell. Claude sat with his back against the wall, watching them survey the scene through eyes that looked as big as saucers. Erik had lain on the straw once again, looking the same as when he'd been tossed there. Claude wondered if Erik's guess at their course of action would be correct.

"Get him off the floor! How are we supposed to get the big one off the floor? He looks dead. I don't think he's moved since we threw him in here."

"Well, we must follow orders or we'll end up demoted like Bernard."

"I don't care, he's too big for us to pick up and drag around! Let's take the little deaf one and tell the commander this other was still out. It wouldn't be lying you know."

"Well, let's at least try then, because I for one do not want to get caught in something that would encourage my loss of rank!"

The two officers attempted to lift Erik from the straw. Manhandling him in an awkward two-man lift, they realized it was a futile task and dropped him back with a thud.

Claude had watched it all with a blank stare while on the inside he laughed hysterically.

One officer looked at the other and they turned their attention to Claude. The look of surprise on his face was real because he knew Erik had been right, and what he feared would come next. But he knew it might be their only opportunity. Struggling against them so he wouldn't give himself away, he let the guards pull him on his feet and hauled him out of the cell, locking Erik in.

Erik feared for Claude and knew he must act quickly. Getting up, he concealed a key in his hand and approached the cell door. He had lifted it from the weaker of the two officers as they tried to get him on his feet, guessing the other - the one who liked to be in charge - would be the one re-locking the door when they left. Well, at least something has gone right today… He slowly unlocked the door, being as quiet as possible. Opening it a crack, he pressed his ear to the opening listening for anything that would indicate someone still in the corridor. Though the guards had no idea at the time, Erik had paid careful attention to each area they passed through and filed it for later recall. He recalled each detail now, as he made his way down the hall. The only real problem he could not foresee was finding where they had taken Claude. He had hoped Claude and he would still be together when his chance arose. He knew once the guards were finished with Claude, however, he would be next. His only choice was to take action now and let things play out as they would.

----------

The little carriage pulled up in front of the de Chagny town home and discharged its passenger. The home's ornate façade was overwhelming, but desperation fueled the need and overcame the fear felt by the passenger. Reaching the doorknocker of the tall mahogany door, the weight of it slipped, causing a resounding boom. When the maid answered she was handed an envelope with one word written on the outside…Raoul.


	10. Chapter 10

This is the last chapter I had done when I started publishing here. Unfortunately, now I will be on a longer schedule between chapters. Usually one a week or so.

Thank you to all of you reading this. I hope you are enjoying reading as much as I am writing...

Chapter 10

Erik moved down the hall, pressing his ear to each door, hoping to hear Claude and his guards behind one. He soon realized that was a dead end and continued to the door at the end. Remembering this door from their entrance to the hallway, he opened it, trying to ascertain if he was alone. Hearing no other noises save for his own light breathing, he ventured into an empty rectangular service area with two doors on either side of him and double doors directly across. Again, he began to his left. As he pressed his ear to the fourth door, he heard muffled voices. Listening for a moment, he realized that the voices were raised in anger but the walls and doors so thick it was impossible to hear what was being said.

_This has to be where they have taken Claude. Certainly they would not take him far from the cell. Surely they wouldn't fear an escape attempt from a 'stupid, deaf' man. Besides to take him farther would be too inconvenient for them as well. _

He touched the handle, hoping it would give with little sound. It moved silently at his touch. He pushed the door enough to create a slit wide enough to peer through. What he saw shocked even him. Claude was bound, hand and feet, to a makeshift cross. The commander stood before him with a guard on each side, each at the ready for anything their superior required. The commander held in his hand a scourge, and continually slapped it against his thigh all the while shouting at Claude.

"What were you doing there? Where are the women? Who are you? Who is the other man?"

Erik heard these questions shouted repeatedly for over a minute, wondering what the commander was thinking.

_If he shouts loud enough, does he think he can force a deaf man to hear him?_ Had the circumstances not been so dire, he might have smiled. Although so far Claude appeared unharmed, Erik knew it would not be long before the commander lost all sense of civility and began to beat him.

_Well, it's now or not at all…_He moved quietly into the room. All three were so intent on Claude that he had little trouble coming up behind the commander and wrapping his arm around the man's neck. He crushed the man's windpipe almost beyond breath. The two officers looked at him in shock.

"Let him go…NOW or I will break your commander's neck. And it _will_ break. Quite easily, in fact." Although Erik's order was neither loud nor jarring, it forced the officers into a race to see who could loose Claude the fastest. While they worked at Claude's bindings the commander seethed under Erik's control.

"Commander, I don't really want to hurt you. In fact, I want no trouble at all. What I desire is the opportunity to leave with my friend, as we have done nothing other than be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Claude had watched the men untie him but at the word 'friend' Erik watched his head snap up and meet Erik's eyes with a look of…what? Erik wasn't sure, but had no time to worry about it now. He knew if they didn't move fast, they would be trapped in this room with three hostages and a bloodbath on their hands should they choose to escape.

Freed from his restraints, Claude hurried to Erik, who still watched the two officers and continued to hold the commander in check.

"Claude, would you be so kind as to remove the keys from the commander's waist belt? I think we should delay the alarm somewhat as we take our leave of these 'gentlemen'."

He caught the faintest smirk on Claude's face as he pulled the key ring from the commander's belt. He backed toward the door, dragging the commander by the neck, and Claude close behind when he heard a noise behind him. He watched Claude's eyes grow round as saucers and it confirmed his worst fear. They had company, and from the look on Claude's face, lots of it.

----------

Raoul paced the walk in front of the fountain. It was almost noon. The note had been so cryptic.

The fountain, the park across from the Opera House, noon. Don't be late Raoul. Lives depend on it.

The note carried no signature and he did not recognize the handwriting, nor did he recognize the description of the woman who delivered it. He almost hadn't come, so consumed had he become with finding Christine. But some sixth sense told him this meeting concerned Christine so he came.

When she pushed the boat away from him and returned to that…that thing, well, he had been certain that only a hypnotic trance or some other mind control could have caused her to do such a thing.

_Because she loves me! I didn't see him do anything of the kind, but it must be that. What else could cause her to go back to him? A kiss? That ensured only our release, nothing more. Surely she couldn't really think there was more to this monster than what she had already seen. The madness, the cruelty, the hate! No, he must hold some power over her that caused her to return and now…her life could be in danger. Or worse, he may already have killed her. I must know!_

In the last few days he had thought he would go mad with worry. Le Agents de Police had found nothing yet. How could she have simply disappeared? The mob from the Opera had torn that monster's lair to shreds, and left nothing. He knew, had she still been there, they would have found her. What had that thing done to her? He continued to pace for some time, stopping now and then to remove his watch and check the time.

"Monsieur De Chagny? Or should I call you Vicomte De Chagny? I'm not sure which is quite appropriate, sorry."

Raoul spun round to see a woman, girl really, about the same age as Christine, standing before him. Her blond hair was plaited and hung down her back, her eyes the color of blue sky and piercing in their intensity.

"_Vicomte_ will do Mlle. And to whom am I speaking?"

"My name, monsieur, is immaterial. I come with news of Christine."

At the mention of Christine's name, Raoul grasped the woman by the shoulders.

"What do you know? Does she live? Is she hurt? What did that monster do to her? You must tell me what you know. I have been out of my mind for days with worry…" His voice trailed off as he looked at the woman. Seeing the look on her face and realizing how he had acted in front of her, a commoner no less, he released her, removing his hands as if she were afire. Making an attempt to calm his breathing, he brushed his lapel as he looked in her face.

"My apologies Mlle. I simply have been so worried about her. What news do you have? Is she well?"

"Oui, monsieur, she is very well. But she needs your help."

"How do you know this?" His eyes grew to tiny slits. "She returned to that monster! Are you involved in some way? Is that how you know of her welfare and needs?"

He watched an odd expression cross her face for half a second, then it was gone.

Her voice took on an almost haughty tone.

"Monsieur, I bring a message from Christine. Everything you need to know is in it. Instructions to answer her are included as well. She must know your reply soon monsieur. Very soon."

With that, she handed him another envelope, this time with his name neatly written in Christine's hand, turned and walked away.

Antoinette walked round the corner toward M Legarde's carriage. _How dare the Vicomte assess that Erik is a monster? _ What did he know of her angel? Her angel in disguise, who had saved her life, her fathers and had worked so tirelessly to try and save her mamman's? _This Vicomte, this privileged boy, knows nothing of the man Christine truly loves! Erik is so kind, so gentle, so loving toward Christine. I wish I could find a man who would love me half as fully as he loves his Christine. And now, she wants this Vicomte's help? Mon dieu! I hope you are not mistaken in the Vicomte's character, Christine._

M Legarde helped Antoinette into the carriage.

"Did everything go as planned, Mlle?"

"It would appear so M Legarde, it would appear so. Now we must pray that it works."

----------

Raoul once again paced, this time in front of the gates to the cemetery. Christine was safe. Her note had told him simply to meet her here, with no other explanation. He was both tremendously relieved and extremely angry and wondered at the dichotomy of the two emotions revolving around one woman at the same time.

She was safe, had not been hurt. But she had been gone for days and he could not understand what would have kept her from him, nor could he imagine what kind of a hold that…that thing must have over her. _Why not flee the minute she had the chance_? Raoul felt overwhelmed with the different thoughts raging in his head. He turned from his pacing to look toward her father's tomb when he spied her standing to one side. She wore a cape similar to the one she'd worn the last time he'd been there with her and an eerie shiver went down his spine. He ran to her, almost grabbing her to him when he caught sight of her face and stopped short just a few feet from her. The look on her face told him she was not there out of love for him. In her hand, she held a single red rose.

"Christine, you're all right! I have been out of my mind with worry for you. I…"

She raised her hand to stop him, the expression on her face telling him he might not want to know after all, why she had asked him to meet her.

Christine had come round the side of her father's tomb and caught site of Raoul immediately. Her heart went out to him in sadness for what she must finish, and pity for she knew she would hurt him. But she could not deny her feelings and would not lie to him to protect his. She had worn a cape to cover her injury, knowing he would think the worst if he saw it. In her hand she held a single red rose tied with a black ribbon. She hoped the picture she presented to him would make too many words needless. She knew how much words could hurt. Lifting her chin, she moved toward him but had only taken a step or two when he turned and saw her. As he ran to her, the pity she felt for him brought tears to her eyes and he stopped short. He began to speak but she only heard her pounding heart. Gathering her strength she put her hand up in a signal for him to stop.

"Raoul, I have several things to say and I would appreciate your letting me speak without interruption. When I am done, you may say what you like and I will listen."

He opened his mouth but she shook her head, intent on finishing what she must tell him.

"I am sorry for the hurt I have caused you Raoul. You came to me, in love with a childhood memory. I was in love with the knight who rescued my scarf. I do not really know the man you have grown to be. There is nothing wrong with the man you have become, Raoul." She turned from him knowing her next statement would truly break his heart.

"But you are not the man for me. I led you to believe I felt a passion for you that never existed. I tried to talk myself into loving you because I was at a crossroad in my life. It scared me-this change I felt. You were a safe haven from a life of confusion and a sweet reminder of a life I can never recapture. I was maturing much faster than I wanted to. I needed a place to 'hide' and you were suddenly there." She turned back to him, her eyes pleading for his forgiveness. "I understand myself now Raoul. I know myself so much better than the little girl who professed her love for you. I know now that I should never have deceived you with false hope…false love. A few nights ago, I found my heart and it does not lie with you. It lies with…" She hesitated and took a deep breath. "It lies with Erik." She had watched his face carefully as she spoke, watching the hurt wash over it, but at the mention of Erik's name, his face grew red with anger.

"That monster? You love that _thing,_ Christine? What kind of a spell has he woven that has trapped your heart, your soul? How can you possibly love something that is at best, half human?"

Before she could stop herself, she slapped Raoul across the face leaving him shocked, with a red mark on his cheek and pain in her heart. Her anger outweighed her pain and she continued to attack him.

"Don't ever call him a monster again, Raoul! He is a man, a man who breathes as you do, feels pain as you do, who loves, more profoundly than you could ever know. I will not have you think of him as anything less in my presence. I love him. Truly love him. I have wronged you, that is true. It happened because I was a vulnerable little girl. I am no longer that little girl Raoul. I have grown up, enough to know my own heart. I thought I loved you when I was young and naïve, but that little girl is gone now. I let her go, Raoul, and you must as well." Her voice had continued to rise as her anger burned. At one time, she would never have believed Raoul could be so cruel. But that was a lifetime ago and they had all changed. Calming her breathing she began again.

"I came here today to ask two things of you. One is to release me from our engagement." His eyes widened at her request. _Surely he can't think, after all that I've said, I would still remain betrothed to him!_

"And the other…well, after listening to you speak, I know my second request will be fruitless. And so, I ask the first. Will you release me from my promise?"

Raoul's eyes flared with an anger of their own though his face had assumed a passive expression.

"And the other, Christine? What is the seconed request?"

She paused before answering, watching his face.

"The second Raoul is…to help me free Erik."

----------

"Claude. How many do you count behind me?" Erik watched Claude's face as he continued counting the officers. They had entered the room at the first hint of a problem, but he held his advantage by the neck. He knew Claude could not see into the outer room and had no way of gauging what lay beyond the door.

"Four have come into the room behind you monsieur, and there are two barring the door."

"So, Commander. It would seem you have an audience of eight for sure. An audience for what, you say? Why, an audience to watch how easily your neck will snap should anyone attempt to stop us from leaving your _most hospitable_ lodgings." Erik had kept his voice quiet but it held an air of authority he knew the commander would not fail to understand.

"And so, Commander, what is your pleasure? Would you accompany us to the door while your officers bid us adieu? Or would you entertain your subordinates with a sight I am sure they rarely see here? Your choice, Commander. Make it…now."

He felt the commander's body stiffen under his restraint, but it then went slack and Erik knew he had won the battle, but could he win the war?

"I see you are an intelligent man after all, Commander, though I did have my doubts. I will loose my arm just enough for you to instruct your men to clear a path for us, and provide three horses at the back of the building. I am honored that you will be 'seeing us out' and delighted that you will be traveling with us as well."

He felt the commander's body stiffen once again at his last statement, but true to his word, he loosed the commander's throat enough for the man to give the orders Erik had instructed. The commander did so through gritted teeth and Erik gave a slight smirk at the commander's anger.

Erik gave the officer dispatched a moment to secure the horses before he began to back out of the room using Claude as his eyes. Knowing the officers would not be inclined to cause the commander's death, Erik dragged him down the hall, Claude making sure the officers following made no move to stop them. When they reached the door Erik put his back to it, keeping the commander in front of him, and pushed it open enough to allow Claude a look into the alley. Claude confirmed three horses and no one around save for the lone officer that brought them. The three moved out the door, the officers following. Erik nodded his head at the lone officer to return to the others and instructed Claude to mount one of the horses, pushing the commander to another. Still keeping his arm around the man's neck, he swung into the saddle with one arm, dragging the commander up by the neck, with the other.

"You will kindly swing your leg over the saddle, Commander." The man did as he was told, seating himself in front of Erik. Erik told Claude to take the reins of the empty horse and lead him. The commander squirmed and Erik once again tightened his grip.

"Please enjoy the ride, sir. I'm sure your men understand the consequences should they decide to follow our little soiree. Once we have ridden as far as I think we must, you will be free to go. However, do keep in mind that, should you be foolish enough to attempt our capture at any time, now or ever, I shall come back for you. That is a promise I will hold myself to." He gave a little squeeze for emphasis before turning to the officers, still gaping at the scene before them.

"Gentlemen, thank you for your hospitality yesterday and today. We'll take our leave now. Just remember my words and we shall all have enjoyed our day, and our lives, immensely."

Turning his horse, he trotted down the alley with Claude following. As they rounded the corner, Erik glanced back to see the shocked officers still staring after them, not one of them having moved.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Christine watched Raoul's face. For a moment he retained the same bland look that he'd held as she asked her second question. Suddenly, he laughed. But it was more than a laugh. It held incredulity, shock, amazement. It took him several minutes to regain his composure.

"Surely you jest Christine! You want me to help you to save – him? I had all of Paris scouring for you. I thought he had raped and murdered you, or worse, had left the city with you as his hostage."

"Raoul! Never! He would never…" But Raoul continued his tirade, speaking over every defense she tried to make.

"And then, to have you tell me that he is what you returned to? Of your own free will? Really Christine, I don't see anything in him worth saving and would rather not waste my time."

"And I see all that is in him worth saving."

Raoul's eyes flashed anger at her as he tried to regain his composure once again.

"I will however, give you my assurance that the authorities will be notified of your safe return." He turned from her then, and took several steps. She realized he may be her only chance at freeing Erik and, though it pained her to do it, she moved after him and placed her hand on his arm.

"Raoul, please! You are the only one I can turn to. I know I have wronged you. I know I no longer have a right to ask you for anything. But if you ever truly felt anything for me, please, help me now." She held her breath and waited – for him to turn or run she didn't know. She just knew he would be her only chance to get to Erik.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before he turned back to her, his face holding that same bland expression, but his eyes holding more sadness and anger than she had ever imagined a soul could carry. For a moment she wished she could feel more than pity, but she had no other emotion to give.

"Raoul, please. I love him."

"What do you want from me Christine? I wanted to give you the world. Instead you want me to give you the help you need to save the man who _is_ your world. I can't do that. I just can't…I love you."

"If your love was true and sincere, you would help me now. You feel nothing for me! Nothing except a glorified idea of what we might have had based upon our childhood. How would we have ever built a lifetime on that, Raoul? How?" She waited for a moment, watching his face, giving him one last chance. All she saw was the same; sadness, hurt - longing? It was an awakening for her, to realize what she might have had with him, and what she knew she would experience with Erik. The difference was night and day, dark and light, sorrow and joy. She'd chosen the joy. She'd made the right choice in returning to Erik. If she had doubted her decision at any time, she no longer needed to be concerned with it. Shaking her head, she removed her hand from his arm.

"I'm sorry Raoul, I've asked something of you I don't think you will ever be able to give." She saw his eyebrows rise to question her. As she shook her head, she answered his unspoken question.

"Forgiveness, Raoul. Forgiveness for not loving you." Giving him a sad smile, she turned from him walking away for the last time.

Erik had led the trio through the back alleys of the city, keeping to those he knew were rarely traveled in daylight, but extensively at night. He'd lived underneath this city for years, new the nightlife's habits intimately. Had walked among them in the cloak of darkness. These people worked far into the morning hours using any illegal means necessary to survive. When the sun rose, they hid themselves away, to wait for the dark to conceal them again. He knew their chances of being seen were slim. They had stopped early on to make the commander more comfortable. Finding some rope in the saddle pouches he tied the commander's hands. He tore a piece from the commander's shirt using it to blindfold him, then sat him on the third horse, strapping him to the saddle. Satisfied the man would not take his leave any time soon, Erik led them in circles for the better part of an hour giving the commander the impression they had traveled a great distance. The gendarme did not venture into this part of the city. Crime was rampant and the perpetrators vicious. The police feared the area as much as the upright citizen, so let them take care of their own. Erik knew however, he would have to gain information from the commander in order to make their escape. When he felt the man was completely confused as to their whereabouts, and suitably frightened, he halted their little group and turned to him. Seeing the fear so evident on the commanders face brought a slight smile to his lips.

"I need the exits from the city that are not guarded, Commander, and I require them now. I will be more than happy to let you live, should you care to share those facts with me. However, know this, Monsieur. I _will_ kill you to save my friend and me, though I do detest being reduced to that. I think you are intelligent enough, though barely, to see the advantage in telling me what I need to know." Erik waited, watching the uncovered area of the commander's face, unguarded in it's emotions. Rage, fear, uncertainty – all stormed across the man's face as he pondered. Finally acquiescing to the situation at hand, he gave Erik three or four routes that would keep them from any checkpoint, allowing them easy egress from the city. Satisfied with the answers, Erik led them to a sad excuse of a stable with no inhabitants save rodents. Dismounting, he instructed Claude to hold the reins of his horse as he led the commander's inside. Untying him, Erik pulled him from the horse and tossed him in a corner. Tying him to a beam, he made sure the man was relatively uncomfortable before taking his leave.

"Commander, it has been an experience. One I hope never to repeat however. If you'll just sit quietly now, I'm sure someone will come along and set you free. Perhaps not today, but eventually. In the meantime, think long and hard about my earlier suggestion regarding any desire you might entertain about coming after us. You have proved to be an amusing diversion, one I would hate to have to dispose of so don't force my hand." The commander began to squirm. "Ah, I see you are not happy with your accommodations. I apologize that I cannot offer you something equal to that which you gave us. Not a sound now, sir, and I shall allow you to live." The man quieted and Erik knew he would comply. "Au revoir, Monsieur Commander." With a shake of his head and a smirk on his face, Erik led the commander's horse from the stable. Remounting, he and Claude proceeded through the alley.

They had gone only an alley or two over from the stable when Erik stopped.

"Claude, the only way we are going to get past the city proper is if we ride through the center of town." Claude looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "I still wear my bloody bandages, our clothing is dirty and torn. And we are both badly bruised. My plan is a simple one. Will you trust me?"

----------

Christine walked back to her father's tomb moving down the side of the building. M Legarde awaited her return at the back of the cemetery. As Christine approached she heard a sound behind her and felt a hand on her arm. Letting out a squeak of surprise, she turned to see the person she least expected.

"What are you doing here!" she demanded.

"I am sorry, Christine. I couldn't wait any longer. You were so long, I thought he might have taken you away. I…I did hear part of your conversation. I'm so sorry he refused to help Christine. What will happen now?"

"I don't know, Antoinette, I just don't know. But I must do something. And soon."

"What do you propose to do?"

"Well, they seek me. Could I use that to our advantage? Perhaps I should march through the front doors and demand their release."

----------

To anyone in the city, the two on horseback looked like any other Parisians - hurt in one of the many riots that broke out in the lower sections. The little man in front led another who slouched low over his horse's neck, bandaged and covered in blood. A third horse followed, rider-less. Both men looked as though they had been on the losing side of the fight. As they made their way, those who noticed simply shook their heads and tsk'd them as fools for getting involved, most likely losing a comrade in the process.

As Erik and Claude approached the outskirts of the city, they saw less and less traffic. No pedestrians were out and very few carriages traveled. Lining the road on one side was the forest that separated the city proper from the countryside beyond. Thick and riddled with brush, it looked impassable to the casual observer.

Erik watched for the egress the commander had described.

They came upon it so suddenly they almost missed it. Seeming to be a little used turn off from the main road, it led into the forest. At one time, there had been many such as this leading away from the city. But the main road had made them obsolete and forgotten. But not this one, it seemed. Roughly sixty meters in, they saw the dense undergrowth blocking the lane. Erik rode ahead and when he was satisfied that the commander had not failed him, they continued on their way. Some areas of the lane were so overgrown they struggled to pass, attempting to make as little noise as possible. They pushed through for quite some time when, breaking into a small clearing, they heard voices but could not see where they originated. Across from them, the brush lessened considerably and Erik made out a wheat field and in the distance, travelers on the road.

"Papers are in order, let them pass. Next carriage pull forward!" he heard from close by.

The checkpoint was not far from them. They had reached the city boundary. Dismounting, he held the lone horse while Claude joined him. Checking the saddle pouches for anything else they may be able to use, he dropped the reins of each horse allowing them their freedom. They stood grazing but Erik knew they would eventually move enough to be found. He hoped the authorities would assume he and Claude had left the city far behind them.

----------

Christine and Antoinette stood across from Headquarters for almost an hour. Nervous but determined, Christine had no idea what she would say. _I've come to see an old man who was brought in yesterday. He was with another man. No, how would I explain that? What excuse can I give for asking about them? _Pausing in her thoughts, an idea began to form._ Antoinette! But of course! _

"Antoinette. I have it! It's perfect. _You're_ going to do the talking." She saw the look of disbelief as she related her idea.

"Me, Christine? Me? I am not the actress. Non, you must be the one inquiring."

Christine looked at Antoinette with impatience. This was the only plausible solution. She certainly couldn't ask about Erik. It would raise too many suspicions. Yes, this would work. It had to.

"Antoinette, you are looking for your father. If they hold him there, it will be convincing when he sees you and you him. Erik must not react to me. It would be too dangerous for us all. Besides," she clasped her hands together in frustration, "How could I explain my seeking Erik? I can think of nothing that would make sense. You must do this, Antoinette. You _can_ do this. You underestimate your abilities." Christine pleaded with voice and expression, willing the other girl to say yes. She watched, knowing Antoinette considered all the possibilities and outcomes. But she knew in her heart that Antoinette would not desert her father. A moment's guilt at putting her in this situation passed quickly. No, she would not desert her father any more than Christine could Erik.

"Antoinette, will you do this? For all of us?"

"Oui Christine." Antoinette spoke with resignation. "I cannot leave my father. I must know if he is all right. But I cannot guarantee the outcome of our little charade. What if I cannot convince them?"

"Then I fear, Antoinette, all is lost."

Christine watched the desk officer as they approached. The closer they got to him, the more his expression turned to one of a doomed man. _He looks uncomfortable. He must not care to deal with women. Perhaps this will be easier than I thought._

"May I help you, Mademoiselles?"

"Officer," Antoinette began, "word on the street is that two men were brought in yesterday. My father left home for work with another man yesterday morning and I have not seen him since. I worry so, I must know if they are the men that were arrested." Christine had been watching her friend, a fleeting thought coming to mind that Antoinette had missed her calling. This brought a tiny smile to her face. Turning back to the officer she realized her mistake. He scrutinized her with a look of familiarity but the moment passed quickly as Antoinette began again.

"Well, officer? Is this true?"

"Yesterday, our officers brought in two men, yes. They had been involved in a carriage accident. But we do not allow visitors of any kind here, Mme."

Christine watched Antoinette's face take on just the right look of confusion. This time, though she had the same thought, it did not bring the smile to her face again. She knew anything out of the ordinary now would bring too much suspicion on them.

"A carriage accident. Were they hurt? What would cause their arrest if they were hurt in an accident?"

"Ahem…well…yes, you see, um…there were certain articles in the area that could not be accounted for." His discomfort grew once again. If this had not been so serious, Christine would have laughed aloud.

"Officer, if you will not let me see them, then tell me please, what did they look like?

"One was slight, the other quite…intimidating in size. The larger man was hurt the most and was unconscious for most of his stay, the other, being a deaf mute, was useless for explanations." Christine felt a chill run down her spine when she heard the officer's description of Erik's condition. She waited but Antoinette didn't miss a beat.

"But officer! That is my father and his friend. Please, I must see them."

"I am afraid that is impossible Mme." He paused looking to Christine as if he'd rather be anywhere than here.

"They escaped earlier today."

Christine paled and began to shake, grasping Antoinette's arm for support. She could hear the officer ask if she was all right and Antoinette's answer as well, but her head swam with the thought that Erik was gone.

She felt Antoinette take her arm as she led them both from headquarters. Once outside, Antoinette led her to a bench across the street and helped her sit. Christine looked at her in panic.

"Antoinette. What now? Where would they go? How will we find each other now?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Christine did not want to be calmed or comforted. She wanted Erik. The past day's stress kept her nerves on edge, but the news of Erik's escape pushed her past it. She had one thought now, and that was to find him. Somehow she must find him.

Antoinette placed her arm around Christine's shoulders. Able to shield her injured shoulder till now, the pressure of Antoinette's attempt at comfort became too much to bear.

"Antoinette! You're hurting me. Please take your arm…" But before she could finish, she felt Antoinette's breath at her ear, as the other girl whispered furiously.

"Christine, shhh. The gendarme from headquarters across the street is watching us. We must have raised their interest after all. You must collect yourself. Please, Christine. Just walk with me, as if nothing is wrong."

Christine glanced at the doorway and spotted the man. He glared at them and it frightened her as she remembered his look of recognition earlier. As they turned their backs and walked away, she saw the look of worry etched upon her friend's face.

"I don't understand. That officer had looked at me as if he knew me. Raoul told me he would let the authorities know that I had been found. That they needn't search for me any longer. But the way he was acting…"

"We just need to continue on our way. We shall return to the inn. Perhaps, once we are safe again, and rested, we will come up with a solution."

Christine gave Antoinette a hopeful smile, knowing in her heart that she had no solutions and no clue as to where to begin.

When they reached the inn, both girls collapsed onto the bed in Christine's room. Their quest at headquarters had begun late in the afternoon, and by the time they arrived at the inn night had fallen. Exhausted, Christine knew they both needed sleep but did not want to be without each other's company. As Christine drifted off into a fitful doze, her mind replayed the events of the past two days, allowing her little relief.

Christine woke about an hour later, sitting straight up in the bed and grinning.

"Antoinette! Wake up. I know where they would go. Antoinette!" She shook her friend by the shoulder repeating her words until Antoinette was lucid enough to listen.

----------

Erik and Claude had returned to the city, forging a path through the brush, leaving the horses and checkpoint far behind. When Erik felt they had put enough distance between themselves and the checkpoint, they stopped to rest. Clearing a small area at the base of a tree, they sat with their backs to it, closed their eyes and waited for nightfall. Both were quiet as Erik formulated the rest of the plan he had devised. He knew they must go back for Christine and Antoinette and the best way to do that would be to travel in the shadow of night. Laying out his ideas in his mind, he noticed from the corner of his eye that Claude watched him with an odd expression.

"Claude, there is something wrong?"

"Non, Monsieur Erik. Thank you for getting us out of there today. You never cease to amaze me."

"I only did what was most beneficial to us both. I would have done it had you not been there."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you would have. But you did something else for me today and, I want to thank you for it."

Erik raised his visible eyebrow in question as he turned to look at Claude.

"And whatever else have I done for you today Claude, that you would want to thank me? Freeing us I suppose I could understand. But I did nothing else."

"But you did Monsieur Erik. You…called me your friend."

----------

Christine and Antoinette packed a small amount of food, water, bandages and ointments in two bags along with anything else they could think of to tend to any wound they may find. Each dressed in their darkest clothing, and carried a lantern full of oil. Though Antoinette had never been through the secret door, she knew where to find the latch from watching her father and Erik come and go. She used that knowledge now as she and Christine peered through into the dark beyond.

"Were you not afraid when you came through here? It is so black and I fear our lanterns will offer little light."

Christine remembered her fear as she followed Erik, staying in the shadows just outside his light. Would he accept her? Would he believe her, that she wanted him, loved him and only him? And always had. That she hadn't misread their kiss and made the biggest mistake of her young life. No, it wasn't the dark she had feared as she now looked into this abyss, where the decisions she'd made had changed her life forever.

"Yes, Antoinette. I was afraid." _But for reasons you will never understand._

Someone banged on the front door, locked since the morning before.

"Christine! The officers must have followed us."

"It may just be a weary traveler that needs a bed for the night."

"Either way, we must go now. We may not have this chance again."

But both girls stalled at the tunnel entrance, neither making the first move to enter. They heard the pounding again, more insistent. Realizing it wasn't someone looking for a room, they clasped hands and marched through the opening, bags over their shoulders and lanterns held high, as the panel slid shut behind them.

----------

Erik reflected for long minutes. Claude's words had affected him. Friend. Did he consider Claude a friend? Did he really know what a friend was? It had rolled so easily across his tongue, that word friend, with no sarcasm behind it as was his usual inflection. No disgust. Just…what? A feeling. A feeling that it had been the most natural word to use. He had known Claude and his family for years but had never thought about his relationship with them. Had always taken for granted that Claude was there. Even when he had failed to save Angelique, Claude had remained by his side, never blaming him for her death, though he had blamed himself enough. Claude had been one of two people in his life that he trusted, Madame Giry the only other. In the past few days, he had learned many new things. The woman he had loved for so long returned those feelings in kind. And he had a friend. Neither of these had he thought ever to know in his lifetime.

He cleared his throat. "Claude, we must be off now. I wish to get back to Christine and Antoinette as soon as possible." He rose from the ground, extending his hand to Claude. Claude rose, and as he met Erik's eyes, Erik saw a glint he knew far too well. Claude smiled at him and shook his hand. Winking he said something Erik never thought to hear.

"Thank you, Erik – my friend."

----------

"It is so dark. Are you sure it's safe? The lanterns barely penetrate."

"I only know what I have told you. I followed Erik for some time. But…I was so tired. I--I could walk no farther so he carried me. I must have fallen asleep, as I don't remember anything else. I cannot imagine it being anything but safe or I'm sure Erik would not use it." She did not want to acknowledge the true reason for her inability to remember, too ashamed of her weakness to admit she had fainted.

"Shhh. I hear something!" From outside their small circle of light, they heard noises. Not footsteps, they were sure of that. But what? They continued holding hands. The comfort they derived from each other had kept them going. But now, even that wasn't helping. Suddenly, they heard a scratching like a thousand nails across the stone they trod.

"What is it?" Antoinette shouted but Christine was too shocked to make a sound as a horde of rats scurried across the path in front of them.

"Mon Dieu! Rats! Run, Christine, run!" Antoinette began to run further into the tunnel, aware of nothing except escaping the vermin. She dragged Christine with her and as she ran Christine regained her senses. She caught glimpses of passages branching off of the one they followed, and realized they must stop or they would be lost.

"Antoinette! You must stop!" Christine tried to plant her feet but the stone was too smooth and she could not gain purchase. Caught off guard, her forward momentum too great, she jerked forward into Antoinette, slamming into her back and knocking them both off their feet. As they tumbled in a ball of arms, legs, packs and gowns, their lanterns went sailing away, crashing into pieces and eliminating their only source of light.

----------

"Monsieur Erik, why are we here? That is not a doorway, it is nothing but stone!" Claude stood with his friend in front of an archway on the alley side of the Opera House. Decorative arches graced the wall at even intervals down the entire side of the building, which ran the length of the block. They stood in an area seldom used when the Opera House had been in full operation. Now no one had any reason to come here.

"Remember, what I have told you in the past. Things are not always as they seem." With that, he pushed here and there around the arch and the wall gaped opened to reveal a door no one would have suspected. Inside, a tunnel similar to the one that led from his room at the inn stretched into darkness.

"Hurry. Although I see no one, that does not mean we are not being watched."

The two entered into the dark as the door closed behind them. Claude heard a match strike and watched the eerie glow as Erik lit several torches on the wall. Claude had never ventured far into the tunnel from the inn. Now he looked around in awe. They stood in a small area with tunnels that branched down from the door they had come through. _Look more like slides to me _thought Claude as he wondered if they would be descending on their backsides. Taking two torches from the wall, Erik passed one to Claude, motioning him to follow and starting off down the tunnel to the right. _I am getting too old for this, Monsieur Erik, too old._

Erik held the torch in front of him while he moved down the tunnel, into the bowels of the Opera House. Close to the wall, the path was quite manageable as the edge was rough and easily trod upon. They walked for what seemed like an eternity before finally reaching the lake. His boat had been left on the shore. _Of course, the animals that destroyed my home would need a way to return to theirs. _ Erik motioned Claude into the boat, giving him the torch he carried once Claude sat down. The torches would be their only source of illumination upon reaching the opposite shore.

"I haven't been in a boat before," Claude said. "This is…strange. Is the water deep? What happens should we tip over? I'm not comfortable with this. Not at all."

"Claude, you were willing to take on the gendarmes but not a little ride in a boat? I am surprised." Erik showed his amusement as Claude gazed at him with apprehension.

"Claude, the water comes only to my knees. No more. But it is very cold and we have some way to go. The boat is the obvious choice." He waited for a comment from Claude that was not forthcoming. By the expression on his face however, Erik was sure, had he held anything other than both torches, he would have pitched it at him by now. Claude glared at him for a moment, then turned face forward watching their progress.

----------

Christine and Antoinette clung to each other as they sat in total darkness. Never before had either one been so frightened.

"Christine, what do we do now?" Antoinette whispered as if the walls could hear.

_It can't be that dangerous here. Erik uses these tunnels all the time. He would never have put me in harm's way._

"Can you feel for the lanterns? Either one will do. And mind the broken glass. Perhaps one is still usable, but we won't know until we find them."

"Shhh, don't talk so loud." Antoinette whispered again.

"If it is only the rats we must worry about, they won't care how loud we are, and perhaps it will scare them away. I doubt anyone else is here or we should see their light. Please. Help me find the lanterns."

Sweeping their hands about the floor, the only thing either girl felt was the broken glass.

"Oooh! Mon Dieu!"

"Antoinette. Are you all right? What happened?"

"Oui, a piece of glass pricked my finger. At least I think it is glass as I cannot see it. Whatever it was is gone now."

"Keep looking then, we must find the lanterns."

Christine took her pack from her good shoulder and shoved it aside.

"We'll never find them like this. Let go so I can explore farther."

"No! What happens if you can't find your way back?"

"You must let me go. Tell you what. Hold my ankle while I reach out as far as I can. We'll go in a circle and if I don't find one of the lanterns, we'll move a little farther and try again. How does that sound?"

"No, please. What if you should slip from my hand? It is so black. I cannot."

"You must or who knows how long we shall remain here." _Perhaps forever _she thought trying to keep her own fear at bay. She heard Antoinette's sigh of resignation.

For a moment, she though the death grip with which Antoinette held her would never let up, then felt Antoinette's arms relax a bit.

"Yes, I…I think I can do that. Just don't lose me." Christine felt hands moving down her skirt until they reached her feet. The same grip Antoinette used earlier now trapped her ankle, making her squeak in pain. She knew Antoinette was frightened. She was as well. But fear would not solve the problem they faced. She began by crawling as far from Antoinette as she allowed, reaching forward. _Please God, just one lantern. I can't take the dark much longer either. _ The pain in her shoulder grew with each circle she made and she knew, problem solved or not, she would pay dearly.

"Christine, talk to me. I need to hear something other than my own breathing."

"What do you wish to talk about? I need to concentrate. I don't need any more injuries." She heard a sob catch in Antoinette's throat and berated her own fear-fueled temper.

"I am sorry. I'm just as scared as you. Forgive me." Hearing nothing from the girl she continued. "What would you care to talk about?"

They made small talk, finding comfort in each others voice as Christine circled, moved a bit and began again.

Circle and move, circle and move. This went on for some time until Christine's fingertips bumped something that rattled.

"Antoinette! I've found one." Reaching out to grasp it, she paid no heed to its condition. As her hand clamped over the lantern, it also drove a piece of the broken glass through the palm of her hand.

----------

Erik looked for candles, another torch, anything that would bring them more light. He caught sight of Claude's face out of the corner of his eye. He stopped to watch as Claude paced around the area in awe. Although the mob had destroyed almost everything, remnants of Erik's former home remained intact. He watched as Claude took it all in. For a moment he saw his home again, in all its opulence and it saddened him.

"Monsieur Erik, you lived here? This…this cave? How could you have lived like this for so many years?"

"It was rather comfortable at one time, until the mob tore it apart. It was my home."

Claude approached him and placed his hand on Erik's arm.

"Would that I had known, my friend. How desolate your life has been."

Taken aback by the sincerity of Claude's words, Erik swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat. _Friend. _Still such a foreign word to him. Clearing his throat, he instructed Claude as to where he might search for a candle or two.

They had been looking for some time and had managed to find several candles to light when Erik stopped, tilting his head.

"Monsieur? What is it?"

Erik stood, barely breathing, as he listened, trying to catch the sound he thought he'd heard, a second time.

"Erik?" Erik held up his hand in an effort to quiet Claude. Again he heard it. Faint, but unmistakable. Someone was crying.

----------

Christine let out a shriek as she pulled her hand away. She felt the warmth of the blood as it ran across her palm. She knew she had cut herself badly.

"Christine! What is it?"

"It's nothing. I've…just cut my hand."

"Can you tell how deep it is?"

"I think it's not too bad, but I need something to wrap around it. Where is your pack? Can you find a bandage?"

"I have no idea where it is, we've moved too far."

"Well then, can you tear a piece of my underskirt away? I can't…"

"I can try. Is it bleeding a lot?"

"No, not really but I don't want the blood all over me and I do not want the cut to get dirty." She hoped she sounded convincing enough that Antoinette wouldn't panic. It was quite bloody, and having explored it with her other hand, realized the glass had gone completely through. She needed to stop the bleeding, which grew worse by the moment.

She felt Antoinette's hands move at her hem then heard the sound of material ripping. Before she could move, Antoinette's hand found her blood covered ones.

"Christine! This is more than a simple cut. Your hands are covered in blood. You need help."

"And how do you propose we get that help? We have no light, no idea where we are, we're sitting on a path in a tunnel that leads to who knows where. How do we get help?" Her nerves cracked and her voice rose with each word. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I'm as scared as you, Antoinette. I have no idea what to do. But I know I have to stop the bleeding and you need to help me. I need it wrapped tight and tied. Can you do that for me?"

"Oui. I can do that." Christine felt Antoinette's hands on hers, heard a sharp intake of breath when Antoinette realized the severity of her injury, but she could feel her gentle ministrations. Her head swam as Antoinette finished tying a knot in the makeshift bandage. Reaching with her good arm, she found Antoinette's shoulder and lay her head upon it while Antoinette held her close. As she drifted off, she realized that Antoinette had begun to cry.

----------

"Crying? Who would be crying down here?"

"I don't know, but we need to find whoever it is. Grab one of the torches and come with me."

Erik approached the first tunnel opening. Holding his hand up to halt Claude, he slowed his breathing and listened again. Again he heard it. Faint, but distinct.

"Follow me and don't stray, else I must find you as well."

Erik started off at a brisk pace, going quite a way, stopping to listen, before proceeding again. At one point he reached a section that had several smaller tunnels cut into the side of the path. Stopping again, he listened, moved toward one of the offshoots, stopped, turned to another, listened again and started down it, Claude close at his heels. The farther they got, the faster he moved until he could hear Claude trotting to keep pace. At a sharp turn, he stopped once again and listened to the sobs. Holding the torch in front of him so as to give him the advantage, he quickly turned the corner, only to be treated to a blood-curdling scream.

----------

Christine must have fainted. Antoinette moved her head to her lap, trying to ascertain, by touch, that the blood wasn't seeping through the bandage. She cried aloud, so lost in her despair that she lost track of her surroundings. She wished Christine would awaken, she felt so alone. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, she prayed through her tears for someone to save them. As she lifted her head, a brilliant light assaulted her eyes, turning her cries into the scream of her life.

----------

Erik had never heard anything like it before -- this scream that chilled him to the bone. Before he knew what was happening, Claude had pushed past him, running toward the sound.

"Claude! Stop!" But there was no stopping a man who knew his daughter was within reach.

Erik heard Antoinette calling out and realized that they had found the girls.

_Christine. Thank God. My Christine._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Antoinette still sat on the floor, Christine's head in her lap as Claude and then Erik reached the girls.

"Remerciez Dieu! Oh Papa, we were so frightened!" Erik knelt next to her and gathered Christine into his arms. Claude helped Antoinette to her feet and enveloped her in a fierce hug.

"Monsieur, she is hurt. I tried to help her stop the bleeding but Mon Dieu! There is so much!"

Erik looked down at Christine. Though her dress was of dark material, he could see the wet stains of blood scattered over the front.

"Come." It was the only word Erik could utter as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. His fear for Christine would serve no purpose now.

"We had packs with supplies. They are here somewhere but we had shoved them aside…"

"Find them. Hurry. We must return." Claude and Antoinette moved farther into the back of the tunnel. In just a moment, they returned with both packs. Picking up the other torch, Claude started back the way they had come. Antoinette followed Erik, explaining what had happened to them, as he clutched Christine to his chest.

Erik lay Christine on a makeshift bed and began to unwind the bloody bandage. He had no idea what to expect, but this was not it. Christine had a large wound on her palm and though there was a great amount of blood, the cut was clean and once treated, would heal. But she also had an open wound on the back of her hand and he realized the glass had gone completely through. This was the area that bled so profusely as she had nicked the vein in the back of her hand. Pressure would stop the bleeding but he knew she could lose quite a bit in a short time. She was so still and pale. Pressing the blood-soaked bandage back in place, he tried to stem the bleeding.

"Erik," Claude reached out and put his hand on Erik's shoulder, "she will be all right."

"She has to be, Claude. She just has to be." Tremulously, he reached his free hand to her cheek, lightly stroking it, his eyes never leaving her face.

----------

The Commander waved his arms wildly as he paced across the room, the official doctor of the agents de police following close behind trying to clean up his wounds. He had sat for two days in the abandoned stable, imagining all of the possibilities should no one find him when one of the local prostituées brought her business into the building. After laughing at the commander for what seemed to him an eternity, she removed his gag. He had sustained several injuries while trying to free himself and fought to keep his temper under control. Once she was convinced of no repercussions pertaining to her trade, she located a gendarme. When freed, he returned to headquarters and had been ranting for the past hour.

"That man – tied me and left me for dead! And he threatened me! ME! Told me if I _tried_ to find him he'd kill me! I am the Commander of the Paris Police and he thinks he can treat me that way and I will not hunt him down? Oh, get away from me, petit ver! I'm fine!"

Still waving his hands about, the Commander threw a slew of epithets at the doctor as the man packed his bag and left. As the doctor reached the door, he turned to the Commander, glared at him and left him with a slur of his own.

"Perhaps Commander, another day or two of rodents and assorted other injuries and you could have saved him the trouble!" The Commander stood aghast as the doctor pushed his way out the door.

"How dare he speak to me like that! Just who does he think he is?"

His officers watched him rage, glad for once they were not the cause, nor on the receiving end of it. They let him go on for several more minutes before one drew up enough courage to speak.

"Um, Commander?" He watched the commander turn on him, but it was too late to stop now.

"We had an unusual visit two days ago, sir."

"Visit? What kind of visit? Who visits here without business to attend to?"

"Sir, two young women came in. One was asking about the men we had in custody. Said something about one of them possibly being her father and the other his friend. They reacted very strangely when told the men had escaped. The dark haired one, Charles thought he recognized her. Turns out she is the opera singer we have been searching for." Before he could utter another word, the commander had turned on him, his eyes on fire.

"Once again, we had that woman in our hands and let her go? Sacre Bleu! What have you got for a brain?" The officer stood his ground this time, making an effort to explain.

"Commander, Charles thought to keep an eye on them. When they left, we followed them to a small inn located in Low Town. We surrounded the inn making sure they had no way to escape. But when we finally broke through the door, a search of the premises proved futile."

"Futile? What do you mean, futile?"

"Well, Commander, they were not there. We did not see them leave, and yet, they were nowhere to be found." The officers watched as the commander sank into the closest chair, his face ablaze with his anger.

----------

For two days Erik tended to Christine, changing her bandages, singing softly to her, never leaving her side. He instructed Claude on the things he would need and drew a map. Claude was able to find his way out to collect those things needed to make a substance curative for Christine's wound. Antoinette helped Erik as every four hours he removed and replaced the bandages, applying more of his salve. Each time, he saw her wound had diminished. He had mixed a boisson féminin, which he hoped would help to strengthen her. But she remained pale and weak as he tried to get her to sip the mixture and to eat. Bullion, toast, any little bit would help. Scenes of his failure at saving Angelique played constantly through his mind. He neither ate nor slept as he watched her for any sign that she had regained her strength. Twice, Claude came to him offering to sit with her so Erik could sleep. Twice, Erik looked at him with so much pain in his eyes that Claude would simply pat his shoulder and leave. At last, on the morning of the third day, he saw a change in her and thanked a God he was beginning to believe exists. Color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were alert as she gazed at his face.

"Erik, how long has it been? It's difficult to tell with no outside light."

"Three days, Christine. How do you feel? You look better."

"Well, perhaps that is because I realized, if I looked better, you would stop pouring that foul liquid down my throat." Taken aback, it was Erik's turn to pale at Christine's admonishment. But as he watched, her mouth curved into the faintest smile. He thought his heart would stop, she was so beautiful. Moving from his chair to kneel at her bedside, he touched her warm cheek. Gazing into her eyes, he spoke his heart.

"I was afraid that I would lose you. My life would end as well if you were gone. And I want a lifetime with you." For the second time, Erik put his head down on Christine and wept. She lifted her good hand to his head and brushed it against his hair, allowing him all the time in the world.

----------

The commander had retired to his office for a clean change of uniform and to wash up. He regretted the doctor's leaving after inspecting his injuries. Two or three were quite dirty and he wondered if they would heal properly. As he'd tried to wrench himself free of his bonds, he had turned his face against a beam and badly gouged his cheek on a rusty nail. It would leave a scar, no doubt, but perhaps would add to his air of authority should his plans of rising to commandant dans le chief of all France. What a coup d'état! And he would achieve that. He was certain.

Pictures of his rise to power played through his head as he sat, chair back, feet on his desk, contemplating his next move, when he heard a knock on his door.

"What is it? It had better be good!"

"Commander," came the reply, "someone wishes to speak with you."

"Whoever it is, take care of it yourself. Or are you too inept for that as well?"

"Sir? I think you will wish to take care of this yourself. He is a Vicomte, sir."

Raising his eyebrows at the possibilities this may contain, he rose, glancing in the mirror before making his way to the door.

"Excuse me, Vicomte de Chagny, you now wish us to call off the search?"

"Yes, I do." Raoul looked at the commander, trying to discern the expression his face held.

"We have been looking now for several days. We thought success was within our grasp at one point, but I am confident…" Before he could finish, Raoul interrupted him.

"I spoke with her, three days past. She is… well," he hesitated here, pain once again touching his heart, "and is with the man she…with someone she knows." He stopped speaking, trying to collect himself before continuing. It would not do to let these men see his emotions. He was a Vicomte, after all.

"Well, Vicomte, she was not with a man at all, when she was here, but with another young woman." Raoul saw a look of satisfaction cross the man's face. _Here? She was here?_

"What reason would she have for being here, Commander? You play games with your information! If she was here, you should have stated that immediately."

"Well, Vicomte, she had come with another woman, as I said. They were asking to see two men we had brought in under suspicious circumstances the day before. The blonde one thought one of the men was her father. But they had come too late."

"Too late? Too late for what, Commander?" Raoul's frustration with the man's hesitation was growing by the moment.

"Yes, well, this is where things are rather hazy for me, Monsieur Vicomte. You see, the men had escaped earlier and as I was…indisposed and unable to speak with them directly, I could not ascertain their true reasons for asking. But I am sure what they stated was not their real purpose."

_Two men? Two? What would she be doing looking for two…_

"Commander, what did these men look like?"

"One was thin and somewhat on the wiry side. The other was, well, rather intimidating in stature." Raoul watched the commander as he spoke, but could not quite read the man's face.

"But what did they _look_ like? What did their faces look like? Was one wearing a mask? Or scarred in some way?" Raoul's voice became more insistent, rising in volume as he began to grasp who these men had in their jail.

"One man, the wiry one, was quite unremarkable in appearance and the other sir, had a blood-soaked bandage that covered half his face so we did not get a good look at him. Was there something special about these men, Monsieur Vicomte?"

Raoul knew immediately whom they'd had in custody now. Christine would only be looking for one man, and she had asked for his help to free him.

"Commander, the man you had in custody was the man who had attempted to take my life, on _two_ occasions. It was, sir, the Opera Ghost himself!" Raoul watched as the commander's smug expression was replaced with shock.

----------

Erik remained where he was for some time, Christine continuing to brush her hand over his hair, trying, he knew, to comfort him. Having her with him again, brought more comfort than she could have imagined. Softly and rhythmically she stroked, his tears abating as she did so. Eventually, he realized that her hand had slowed and finally came to rest and he thought she'd fallen asleep again. Gently, he moved away, trying not to wake her, but he was unsuccessful as she stirred under his gaze.

"Mmm, Erik?" Barely a whisper but the sweetest music to his ears, he lifted her hand to his lips.

"What is it, Christine?"

"Erik…I love you, Erik." He pulled the blanket to her chin as she fell asleep. Leaning over her he gently touched his lips to hers, and whispered in her ear.

"And I love you, my Angel."

Some time later Erik felt a presence behind him. Turning, he saw Antoinette. He'd been so engrossed in Christine, he'd not heard her approach, and now realized how tired he was. He saw the question in her eyes as she moved near.

"She's going to be fine, Antoinette. Just fine." He heard her sigh with relief as he turned back to Christine.

"Monsieur Erik, you need some rest. I am not here to ask, I'm here to tell you – Go, get something to eat and some rest." She spoke almost as a mother would to a child. "I will stay with her. You will be no good to her if you drop from exhaustion yourself." Erik gave her a wry smile.

"You have never held back your tongue with me, have you, Antoinette?" She gave him a brilliant smile in return.

"Non, Monsieur, and you would expect nothing less. Now go." Walking to him, she pulled him from the chair and placed her hand on his arm.

"I will see to her, not to worry. Please - Erik, go." The compassion in her eyes brought a lump to his throat. Afraid his emotions would spill over again, he nodded curtly and left.

----------

"The Opera Ghost - the Phantom, Vicomte? How would you know who it was?" The commander had regained his composure and looked at Raoul in disbelief. "The Opera Ghost surely fled the city days ago."

"Trust me, Commander. There is no doubt in my mind as to his identity, none at all. As to the other man, I cannot say." He remembered the girl who had delivered the note and wondered if he was her father. The officer who spoke with her gave him a verbal picture of the blonde. She fit the description of the girl who had accompanied Christine to headquarters. How Christine had come to know her, he had no idea. He was more concerned with the fact that the police had held the Phantom in the palm of their hand and had let him slip through their fingers.

"But this _monster_ that you called a man, tried on two occasions to kill me, and has the woman I love under his spell. You cannot ignore that he must be recaptured. We must do something to find him."

"_We, _Vicomte? Non, my men will find him and bring him in once again. Have no fear. However, Monsieur, there is something you can do for me, once _I have brought_ _this_…Phantom, to justice."

Raoul saw the calculating look in the commander's eyes and wondered what the man expected in return for the justice that should rightfully be served.

----------

Evening came and with it, a growing unease in Erik's heart. Christine felt well enough to sit at a makeshift table and they ate in an uncomfortable silence. Claude and Antoinette tossed furtive glances Erik's way, and he knew they were looking to him for their next move. Only Christine looked calm, though weak, as she sipped her broth and ate small pieces of the bread Antoinette had set before her earlier. Taking a deep breath, he decided now was as good as ever to put their options on the table.

"I've done quite a bit of thinking as to what we need to do." He watched as three pairs of eyes rested on his face. Still cringing inside at times at any attention he received, he put the old fears aside and continued. "Of course, we need to leave the city and the sooner, the better. The only problem with that is, though Claude has been fortunate so far, there's no telling when he might be recognized by any of the officers patrolling the streets. So, securing another carriage is out of the question, I cannot go out, and I don't want either of you two going." His gaze touched first on Antoinette, then Christine. "I also cannot imagine the commander heeding my warning, considering his overblown ego and greedy nature. So…" He left his thought there, allowing things to sink slowly into the others. All three looked back at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, Claude broke the ice.

"Erik, surely you can devise something. You are much too smart to not have figured out a solution."

"I am, am I, Claude? I have only ever had myself to worry about. If that were still the case, I would have been long away by now. But it's not. I have you, and Antoinette." His eyes softened as he took in Christine. "And Christine, who truly is still too weak to travel, to consider as well." Turning to Christine, his emotions once again overwhelmed him at the thought that _she loved him_. "In my estimation, we will need to wait at least two more days for you to regain enough strength." Reaching out, he brushed the fingers of her bandaged hand. Claude and Antoinette looked on, warm understanding in their eyes.

"I will not risk your life again. So, we wait. Perhaps in the next few days, something will materialize that will make our escape possible." Shaking his head, he noticed a knowing look pass between Antoinette and Christine bringing a smile to both their faces.

"Did I say something entertaining?"

"No, Erik, you did not. But Antoinette and I might have part of the solution to our problem."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As Erik listened first to Christine, then to Antoinette, sometimes both talking at once, he realized the adventure they had shared and knew the bond that held them would remain strong throughout their lives. Christine had no family other than the Girys. Though he knew she and Meg were close, until they were safe away and could send for Meg and Brielle, Christine needed a friend and had found a close one in Antoinette.

"Erik, M Legard will be able to help us! He was so willing to see us safely to the inn. He has daughters of his own you see. I know he would be willing to take us wherever we want to go. Perhaps to even help in other ways." Christine seemed especially excited with the prospect of contributing to their plans.

"Christine, that is all well and good. He was willing to help both of you, yes. But what will he think when he knows he must include Claude, and me as well? What of his thoughts regarding me?"

Christine looked at Erik, her eyes full of devotion. "Erik, I cannot imagine any one who comes to know you not caring about you as much as I do."

Erik gave her a rueful smile and shook his head. "You think not, Christine? No one has ever loved me…as you do, nor seen me as you do. To others, I am still a thing to be feared."

A cloud passed over her face for a moment as she considered his words. "No Erik, the man they thought to fear does not exist. Together we will show the world that to know you is to know true beauty, born of the inside." As she finished speaking, she gave him a smile so breathtaking, he could almost believe her.

Claude had been in another part of the lair, and upon his return he learned of M Legard and realized that he knew the man by his given name.

"Oui! Jacques has been a resident here for some time. He has two daughters of his own. I cannot imagine him not helping. He is a kind man and completely discreet. I am sure he would be more than willing to assist in any way."

"Papa, how is it I had never seen him before?"

"He lives a block or two over from us. Moved here five or six months ago after…losing his wife." His eyes grew momentarily sad. "I met him at the stable some time ago. We share…a common bond."

Antoinette rose and went to Claude, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"It is all right Papa, I still miss her, too. I always will."

Erik watched as the two shared an intimate moment of grief before Claude stood and began to clear the table.

"Erik, Christine tires. Perhaps she should return to bed for the evening. Antoinette and I will see to things here. Tomorrow, we shall visit M Legard and see how willing he might be to help us."

"Yes, perhaps you are right. I shall return in a while to discuss further plans." Standing, he turned to Christine and, before she could resist, had lifted her gently into his arms to carry her back to her bed.

The lair was a rabbit's warren of grottos each running away from the central room that bordered the lake. Though Antoinette and Claude seemed to have become somewhat acquainted with the various areas, Erik knew Christine would need to be back on her feet to explore before she would feel the same. He watched her expression as he carried her, but knew she was no more familiar with the way than when he had led her to the table earlier. Arriving back at the area he had deemed her 'room' he laid her gently on the bed.

"Erik, I should like to remove my robe before sleep tonight. Could you help me please?"

Erik's insides clenched at the thought of once again, seeing her so vulnerable.

"Christine, perhaps it would be best if I bring Antoinette…"

"No, Erik. It really would not be best." As she rose from the bed, he stood rooted to the spot, watching her approach. _Oh, Christine. What are you doing? I don't know how much longer I can remain strong for you. _ He held his breath as she drew near and stood toe to toe with him.

"I won't break. Just hold me a moment. Please"

"Christine, I… I held you. I carried you in here." He ran his hand over his hair, knowing he could not escape her desire.

"Yes, you did. But that was borne of necessity, not need. I _need _you to hold me now. I cannot be apart from you any longer." Her eyes invited his arms to surround her.

"But we are not apart, Christine. And we will never be again. I promise you that."

"Oh Erik," she turned to pace in front of him, frustrated. "We are together, in this room, in this place you once called your home. But we are strangers once again. So much has happened, we haven't had a chance to be us. To be one in heart again." Stopping in front of him once more, she leaned her head against his chest. He felt the pounding of his heart and was sure she did as well. Time seemed to stand still as he waited, afraid to hold her, afraid not to. He watched as she lifted her face to him, her eyes a reflection of her love for him.

"Erik, I asked you not to make me wait too long. But I need to _feel _you. I need to feel your lips against mine, your arms around me, not from necessity, but because you still love me…because you're…please, Erik."

He reached for her tentatively, not wanting to hurt her, but she never gave him the chance to be gentle. She wrapped her fingers behind his neck and pulled him into a sweet embrace, her lips meeting his as if it were the first time once again. Erik could stand it no longer, enfolding her, holding her fiercely, praying he wasn't hurting her, though he could not stop. Hungry for each other, they tasted and explored, each trying to reach the other with an act stronger than words could convey. The faintest 'mmmm', purred deep in her throat, breaking his resolve. Half carrying her to the bed, unaware of any hurt he may be causing her shoulder, he laid her on it, never releasing her lips from his, she, never taking her hand from his hair. Lying next to her, he pulled her closer still, until he thought they would meld together, finally becoming the one soul they both knew they truly were. Moving her hand to his face, she ran her fingers along the edge of his mask, but he no longer cared if he wore it or not. She had seen him at his lowest point, broken, ashamed, his face a raw map of emotions. It no longer mattered to him as she removed it, dropping it to the floor. Her lips left his long enough to brush fragile kisses over the marred side of his face.

"I love you, Erik. I know now… I've always loved you." Her lips sought his again as she sighed into him drinking in as much of him as she could. He raised his hand to her cheek, kissing her deeply, roughly, wanting her to know he returned her love ten-fold. Finally breaking the kiss to catch his breath, he caught the look in her eyes, shrouded, sensual. He attempted to forestall the burning desire in his own heart.

"Christine, I will _never_ leave you. I promise you with all that I am." No matter how many times he spoke it, he prayed she would never tire of hearing it.

He'd worn a white shirt to dinner, casually open in the front and she now placed her hand on his bare skin. The heat she felt amazed her but she did not remove her hand. She needed to feel him, solid and alive. She'd waited far too long to touch a living angel and did not want it to end.

Running his hand down her slight form, Erik knew that to lose her would be death itself. He had told her once before that he would never dishonor her, but her closeness overwhelmed his senses. Once again, he fought with all control to rein in his desires. How much more difficult this could be he did not know, but he did know that one more time such as this and there would be no stopping. Ever. He pressed her cheek to his chest, cradling her in his arms. Slowing his breathing, he fought the war that raged within him. When he felt once again, that he had some control over his emotions, he took her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes.

"Christine, I told you once before I would not dishonor you. That is another promise I fight to honor every time you are near me." He took a deep breath and held her gaze. "When we are away from here, I wish to…I…I told you once before that…" He hesitated as she watched his face.

"Erik, what is it you're trying to say?"

"You told me, our first night at the inn, that you wished to be joined with me as one. I wish that with all my heart as well, but joined first in honor, and only then in body. When we are safely away, Christine, will you…will you consent to be my wife?"

"Oh, Erik." Tenderness filled her voice and caress. "I wondered when it would finally cross your mind to ask." Overcome with the emotion she showed him, he pushed on in his quest for her heart's commitment. But he knew she must realize what she faced should she agree.

"It will never be an easy life, my love. I will always be feared and shunned. I have known this since I was a babe. But you must understand that you as well, will be shunned because of me. You must consider this, Christine. It will be hard to accept at times. Your love must be strong enough to withstand it. If it's not, and you left me because of it, I should die. I want you to consider carefully before you answer my question. It is a commitment upon which I am willing to stake my life. Can you do the same?"

Once again pulling his lips to hers, she answered him in the language she was certain he would always understand.

As difficult as it had been, Erik had extricated himself from Christine's embrace. Though he was loathe to leave her, he knew it was imperative before things went beyond his control. He had helped her out of her robe, struggling with himself the entire time, gotten her settled and said goodnight. As he returned to the table, he saw Antoinette and Claude deep in conversation.

"Plotting and planning without me, are you?" Antoinette squealed in surprise as Claude jumped from his chair toppling it behind him.

"Erik, must you always approach with the stealth of a cat? It can be very disconcerting!"

"Ah, Claude. You know I must practice my skills whenever the opportunity presents itself." He righted Claude's chair and bade him sit. Taking a seat as well, he watched them, as he smiled, like a mischievous boy with a frog in his pocket. Claude and Antoinette exchanged a curious glance as they looked at the stranger at their table. Erik's smile faded, replaced once again by a serious expression.

"I have noticed something these past few days that I find refreshing but a bit confusing." He watched Claude give him a questioning look.

"Yes, well…" He had found himself hesitating often since their ordeal began; a new experience for him and one he was still exploring. "You have taken to calling me 'Erik'. Not Monsieur, or Monsieur Erik, simply Erik. I should like to know when this change occurred to you. Not that I complain, it just sounds so…different from what I have become used to." Claude searched his face, once again covered by the mask. His gaze made Erik uncomfortable, something he had never felt around Claude before. Waiting in silence, it seemed forever before he saw Claude beam and the twinkle in his eyes play wildly. Laughing, he reached across to Erik, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Why, Erik," sobering, he winked as he continued, "it is what true friends do, is it not?"

----------

Raoul paced the floor in the library of his town home, the brandy in his glass tossing precariously from rim to rim. He couldn't understand what would make her want to stay with a man who was a known murderer. With a _monster_ like that! Had he not been a killer, at best he could never give her the kind of life she deserved. He had no visible means of support, lived _underground_ for God's sake! How could she love a man like that? _Why couldn't she love me like that? _His heart and mind had been at war since leaving headquarters. The Phantom's deeds demanded justice and that commandant d'idiot! All he was looking to do was further his career. What guarantee was there that he would follow through and arrest the man that almost cost Raoul his life? And cost him Christine…Once again, the memories flooded back. The water, the wind, her scarf, his days with her, at her father's feet, in the attic as they told each other stories. So many memories. But now, that was all she would remain – a memory. _No. I cannot believe she truly wants to stay with him. He held her in his spell before. Surely that must be the reason she stays with him now. _

The commandant had told him of the inn, that Christine and the other girl had gone there but the gendarme had found it empty. Where would they have gone? How could they leave and not be seen? A thought had been taking shape in his mind all night and he now raked his hand through his hair in an attempt to bring it into focus. _Not there. How could they not be there? They could not have left by the doors or windows. Someone would have seen…_Suddenly, Raoul's eyes widened with the revelation he'd been trying so hard to discern.

Working for two or three hours, he managed to get through most of the rubble, and had reached the spiral path that led down into the bowels of the Opera House. _So much destruction by one man._ He knew, somehow, in some way, the inn must be connected to this place. Christine must have used that connection to escape the inn without being noticed. And there was only one…man…who could have made that possible. Hoping against hope that he was not too late to stop what he knew the Phantom was capable of, he started down the path, to what end, he had no idea. He just knew Christine was at the end and he must do something to save her. Quite possibly from herself.

----------

Christine stood at the water's edge, studying the iron gate and remembering. So many things had happened that night. She still felt Raoul's pain acutely. She'd seen it in his eyes when she pushed the boat from him. _I'm so sorry to have hurt you, Raoul. But I am exactly where I belong. Perhaps someday you'll understand. _Her mind had wandered and she was only seeing those events replayed when she heard a noise that brought her focus sharply back to the gate. He was there, on the other side! For a moment, she thought her memories had come to life. Then, he spoke. And she knew once again, it was all too real. _Raoul!_

As he once again approached the gate, he thought for a moment that what he was seeing was a dream, a memory of that night, nothing real. She did not speak; just looked at him and the pain in her eyes was all too real. He was sure now, that she was here, against her will. Why would she be in so much pain otherwise? He grasped the gate to lift it but it would not move. She watched him, wide eyed, as he struggled to open it.

"Christine!" Still, she stood, unspeaking, simply staring.

"Christine! Are you all right? Please, Christine. Say something. I've come to take you home."

"Raoul, I…no, Raoul, leave. Now. Leave us alone. I don't want you here. I don't want you hurt any more." After their scene at the cemetery, she thought never to see him again. As devastated as he was, she knew he would never forgive her for not choosing him and she did not want to face him again, knowing his pain would never fade.

"Christine. I must help you. I know you don't mean what you say. It is a spell, cast by that demon, to hold you against your will." Raoul was getting desperate in his pleas. This was his last chance and yet, she still refused to listen to reason.

"Open the gate. Pull the lever, Christine, and open the gate. I will help you and together we can leave this place, forever."

"Raoul, I'm not strong enough to pull the lever. I can't open it"

"She is right, Monsieur. But I can."

Two sets of eyes flew to Christine's right as Erik came around the corner of the Lair, eyes ablaze at the sight of Raoul once again violating his domain. Quickly, Christine moved to him, putting her arms around him in an attempt to forestall the inevitable.

"Erik, don't. Please don't do anything. Leave it closed. He will go. Please, my love, please."

"Christine, we have a guest at our _door_. Surely you don't want to be a rude hostess and deny him access to our humble abode." With that, Erik pulled the lever and the gate began to rise.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Christine stepped back from the scene before her in horror, helpless to stop the disaster unfolding before her. She knew, should a fight ensue again, Erik would not lose.

"Raoul, don't come any closer. You must go. I made my choice and this is where I belong. I tried to tell you that at the cemetery."

Erik had been watching Raoul advance but when Christine spoke he turned on her in fury.

"The cemetery? And when were you going to tell me that part of your story? You seem to have conveniently left it out of your tale the other night. Or did you suddenly _not remember_? It would appear, Monsieur, that she has yet to decide after all."

She watched Erik's eyes as they flooded with grief and pain. _He thinks I went back to Raoul? After all we've been through?_ She reached for him again, pleading with her eyes for him to listen but he evaded her touch.

"Erik, I did go to the cemetery and I did meet Raoul there. But only to ask for his help in freeing you from the gendarme. I wanted nothing more from him than that. Please believe me. _I love you_." As she looked between the two men, she watched a brief glow of triumph shine in Erik's eyes, before a mirror image of Raoul's defeated expression replaced it.

"Help me, Christine? Did you not think I could take care of myself? Or were you afraid I would not be able to take care of _you_? To come back for you? Instead you run once again to this boy? Why, Christine? Do you have so little faith in my love for you that I would not return to you? Have our last days together been simply a cruel joke?"

Christine's mouth opened to speak, but she caught sight of the horror that crossed Raoul's face. Realizing he must believe the worst, she moved from both men, lifting her shoulders and steeling her nerve. When she turned back to them, her eyes were burning fury neither man had ever witnessed in her before.

"You must stop this, both of you! What is wrong with you two that you think you can fight over me as a prize? I am a woman. Yes, a woman! You both treat me as though I will shatter at any moment! I have been through more these past few months, this past _week_ than most women ever experience! I have grown up. I have a mind and heart of my own and I will use one and bestow the other any way I see fit. You cannot continue to do this. I will not accept it. I will not!" Turning on Raoul, she allowed her tirade to continue.

"Raoul, you say that you love me. You do not even know me. If you truly did, you would see what is in my heart. My love is not an all-consuming love for you. I told you that in the cemetery, but you didn't care to hear anything beyond what you wanted to believe. We are; were friends. Close friends. And, as a friend, I thought you were a haven from the miasma of my life. Yes, I was young. Perhaps I led you to believe what I thought I wanted to believe myself. I was wrong in doing that. But I told you at the cemetery that my heart belongs with Erik. No matter what you do, Raoul that will notchange." She turned to Erik, her face red with rage, seeing the look of disbelief on his face.

"You, Erik! You think this is all some game on my part? That the precious words I spoke to you, unreservedly and from the bottom of my heart, had no meaning? That my acceptance of your proposal was nothing more than false agreement? To what end? What would I gain by that? I – love – you! Only you. I accepted your proposal fully knowing what it entails because it is my heart's desire as well. And now, you try to cheapen it all by calling my vow to you a lie? The wounds to my body cannot compare to what you both have done to my heart." She turned her back on them, stumbling to the wall and leaning on it for support. The Lair had become deathly quiet. No sound, no movement. When she could stand it no longer, she turned back to them both, lifted her chin and with as much dignity as possible, spoke once more.

"If you will excuse me _gentlemen_, I have said my piece. Perhaps it is now time for you to make peace between yourselves or none of us will ever know _peace_ again." Shoulders back, chin high, she walked past Erik into the depths of the lair, leaving both men stunned and speechless.

They stared at the area Christine had just exited, with a look of shock on their face. Erik was the first to recover and turned to Raoul with a smirk.

"Well, Vicomte. It would appear that your childhood sweetheart has grown up."

Raoul glared back, the expression on his face turning from shock to rage.

"What have you done to her, Phantom? What hypnotic trance have you placed on her now? She's been your prisoner for days now, and nights! And nights! Have you – have you, oh Mon Dieu! What has happened here?"

"Really, _Monsieur_ Vicomte. Or would you rather I simply call you Raoul? And, since you seem to think I am on intimate terms – with _someone_, you may call me Erik. Ah, I see the surprise on your face. It is not a figment of Christine's imagination. I do in fact have a name. Your _monster_ as you prefer to call me, has a _name_. It has been mine since _birth_. Or, are we to believe that monsters are made, not born? Perhaps they are, Vicomte, perhaps they are indeed. I have seen them in many forms, with many faces. Some as seemingly innocent as yours."

Raoul's rage built with each word Erik uttered. He thrashed his way through the water like a madman. His only thought was to kill.

----------

The commander was sure that he could not lose now. The Vicomte de Chagny appeared completely receptive to his requested favor. _Capturing this Phantom will be the coup de gras for me._ His only problem now; where to begin? The inn had been a dead-end, the Opera House had burned to rubble, where would this Phantom go? As he sat at his desk thinking, he scribbled pictures on a map of the outlying areas of the city. Ordered to strengthen the checkpoints after the fiasco with the opera girl, he manned them heavily enough that they would be completely 'escape' proof. There was no way she, or anyone associated with her, would escape again, so, their leaving the city was impossible. As to any other measures he could take, he would simply have to begin another door-to-door search. A gypsy camp had recently been set outside the city proper. The Vicomte had mentioned something about this Phantom's gypsy past. To think they had made it to this camp was absurd, but it never hurt to check. Either way, he was sure they would prove fortunate enough to find this infamous prey. And when they did…well, he had plans in mind. Very specific plans. Plans that would secure his future on the police force and pay back this – Phantom, for the humiliation he had experienced in front of his own men. _Oh yes, very specific plans indeed_. After all, his only order was to capture the Phantom. Whether he delivered this _thing_ dead or alive, well, that was another matter entirely.

----------

Christine ran from them, half out of her mind. Never had she felt so angry, hurt and humiliated. _How dare they both think of me as something to barter over? Fight over? I am my own person! _ Her tears started as she stumbled and she swiped angrily at them. _Why can't they just see…_She wanted one thing. Erik. Her memory of the look on his face at Raoul's mention of the cemetery tore at her. Was he secure enough yet to believe in her? Or had she ended everything when she walked away?

She didn't know the tunnels well and had been moving through them for only a few minutes when she realized she had gotten herself lost. Caught up in her own thoughts, she had moved blindly through them, not paying attention to the path she took and knew she could be anywhere. A moment of panic replaced her anger. As huge as this underground cavern was, it could take a long time before she could find her way back. _If_ she could find her way back. She knew Erik kept them all equally lit, and she had no idea if she was still in the main tunnel. If she was off the main tunnel, she could be anywhere. She stopped walking, trying to discern anything familiar on the walls or floor, but saw nothing that she recognized. She began moving forward slowly, trying to gain her bearings when she heard a footstep and the sound brought her up short. Heart pounding in the hope that Erik had followed her but afraid he hadn't, she stopped and held her breath. Again the sound came from around the corner and she realized it traveled from in front of her, the wrong direction to be Erik. She pressed her back to the wall. _If Raoul could find his way back to the Lair, who else could have come, and why?_ _Someone for Erik! God, no! _She could not let that happen. _Perhaps, if it is, and they follow me instead, it will give Erik a chance to escape. _Steeling her nerve, she turned the corner quickly, hoping to surprise whomever it was, gaining time for him – and screamed.

Christine suddenly appeared in front of Antoinette, causing her to scream from fear. When they had both caught sight of their respective 'attacker', Christine grabbed Antoinette and hugged her tightly.

"Christine? Bon Seigneur, Christine! What is wrong, Mon ami? Why do you cry?"

"Oh, Antoinette. You scared the life from me! I thought, I just thought…" Antoinette held Christine away from her, trying to get a better look at the other girl.

"What are you doing in the tunnel, alone? You're not well enough to be wandering – "

"Oh Antoinette! I am so glad to see you! The lake, Erik, and – I am sick to death of men and the ridiculous games they feel they must play! Why must they continue in this?"

"They? Christine, who is 'they'?"

Christine's eyes grew wide, suddenly realizing she had left Erik and Raoul alone, together.

"Mon Dieu, Antoinette! What have I done? They will kill each other!"

----------

Erik watched as Raoul charged. The water slowed his legs and caused him to lose his footing. Erik barely had time to think as a look of surprise crossed Raoul's face and his feet slipped out from under him. He fell backward with a resounding splash. Erik smirked as one second passed, then another while he waited for Raoul to resurface. When the water began to calm, he realized Raoul was in trouble. Thinking his problem solved, he began to go for Christine until her pleading eyes appeared before his mind and he knew he could not leave Raoul to die. Pushing his way into the water, he reached down several times before he found the boy, gripped his coat and, with one great heave, pulled him from the water. After dragging him to the bank, Erik dropped him, satisfied that Raoul was still alive, though unconscious. He checked Raoul's head and found a large lump at the back. Erik stood, and for the first time took a good look at the boy who had become his adversary, through no fault of his own except that he too, loved Christine. Erik began to see what Christine might have found in this young and obviously pampered boy that would make her believe he could 'save' her from her confusion. He would have seemed the logical choice. A childhood friend, someone she was comfortable with, someone she trusted. At the time she had turned to Raoul, he knew she still wasn't sure who _he_ was. A tutor, yes. An angel? She'd thought so, at one time. And then everything began to go wrong, and she had turned to something familiar, comfortable…instead of him. And now, she demanded they find a common ground? _The only common ground we share, Christine, is you._

Erik sat with his thoughts, watching the Vicomte, until Raoul's eyes began to open. As he became more alert, Erik saw him stir, his eyes widen with confusion, then once again, take on the hatred he'd seen when Raoul had begun his charge.

"Vicomte. I would suggest you rest a moment or two, before continuing your quest for my head. I'm afraid you may still be too weak to carry on. For the moment, at least."

Raoul glared at him, murder in his eyes.

"You. You and your tricks and traps! What did you do to me?"

"Ahh, Vicomte. It was your haste in attempting to remove my head from my shoulders that caused your feet to slip among the rocks. You fell, hitting your own head. I simply pulled you out and placed you where you now lay."

"You lie! I know you are full of tricks. You must have done something!" Rising on one elbow in an attempt to sit, he closed his eyes to the spinning room and lay down once again.

"Alas, Monsieur, much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot take credit for your misfortune, though it is something to consider for a later time. No, it was entirely your own rage that caused your fall. However," holding up his hand to stave off another accusation from Raoul, "I have done some thinking on Christine's last - admonishment, if you will. It would seem that we must come to terms, Vicomte, or face her wrath forever. And though I am loathe to agree with her as it brings me much closer to you than I care to be, she is correct. So, Monsieur, what say you? Do we find a way to exist together, for Christine's sake? Or shall we kill each other now and save her the trouble?" Erik maintained the same slight smile on his face, as he watched the Vicomte take his assessment. _So tell me, Vicomte, what is it you really see?_

Raoul heard Erik speaking but his rage encompassed his every thought. So certain was he that Erik had caused his fall – he had not listened to the words until Erik spoke Christine's name. Snapping him from his outrage, he began to pay attention to Erik's words. _This…thing - speaking of Christine to me? How dare he? _But as he listened, he realized that, though he hated the thought, this – Erik, might be right. His first concern must be for Christine and her safety. If it took an uneasy alliance for him to extract her from this mess, then perhaps he could play along. As he glared at Erik, considering his options, he heard screams from somewhere deep inside the Lair. He watched Erik jump to his feet and race down the tunnel as he tried to rise from the bank and follow.

----------

"I'm not sure, Christine, I've only been this way a few times. It can still be so confusing. I'm not sure where we turn." Christine held Antoinette's hand as they began to move in the direction Christine had just come. They had only gone a few meters when they heard pounding feet approaching. Uncertain as to whom it could be, they slipped into one of the many crevasses that lined the tunnel. As a form flashed past, Christine realized it was Erik and moved into the tunnel to call him, when she was slammed into by Raoul as he attempted to keep pace with Erik. Knocking her off her feet, she gave a squeal as she sprawled onto the tunnel floor, stopping Raoul in his tracks and bringing Erik rushing back. The two men glared a face off over Christine as Antoinette let out a peal of laughter, catching them all off guard.

"Mon Dieu, Christine," she said between laughs, "you do have a way with men don't you?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Christine sat on the ground between the two men as Antoinette tried unsuccessfully to contain her laughter.

"I fail to find any humor in my situation, Antoinette." She hmmphed indignantly. "Please, stop."

As she considered the sight she must present, she too began to laugh. For one brief moment, Erik and Raoul forgot their differences and exchanged a glance of complete bewilderment before their territorial instincts prevailed once again.

As her laughter subsided, Christine looked from one man to the other, waiting for one of them to assist her from the ground. Both men reached for her but as Raoul's hand neared her, Antoinette put a restraining touch on his arm with a sympathetic squeeze. When he looked at her, she barely shook her head in an attempt to make him see it was no longer his place, but Erik's. His eyes registered reluctant understanding as he straightened, watching Erik lift Christine gently into his arms.

"You are still too weak to be on your feet for long. We need to go back and begin to make our plans."

"And Raoul? Did the two of you manage to work anything out, Erik? Or are you going to continue to wage war on each other?"

"We have yet to reach an agreement on that." His eye caught Raoul's for a moment before he turned and led them back to the other grotto, Christine cradled against him.

----------

Erik had retrieved a blanket and wrapped Christine in it upon their arrival back at the table. They gathered as a group around the old table, the air remaining thick with tension as Raoul continued to watch Erik warily. Antoinette and Claude shared an uneasy glance as Christine sat serenely, waiting for either man to make a move. The silence grew oppressive as all eyes looked from Erik to Raoul and back awaiting the storm they knew was about to be unleashed. Claude finally broke the tension.

"Erik, we went to see M Legarde. He is willing to assist us in any way we may need."

"Assist you?" Raoul looked with surprise at the four. "What do you mean assist you? What do you think is going to happen? Christine, you need to return with me. I'll – drop all charges if that's what you need to hear, but you cannot still want to stay here. I just don't understand."

"Well, this isn't exactly coming to terms with each other, Raoul, is it?" she asked, incredulity written on her face. "Erik and I will be leaving Paris. We are going to make a life for ourselves, Raoul. How many times must you hear this?" She shook her head slowly, sadly, knowing he refused to accept the inevitable. As she watched him, a dawning realization crossed his face.

"Christine, earlier, when you were, when we…you said to-, that you accepted his _proposal_? He has asked you to marry him? And you said yes?" He looked at her aghast, disbelief in his eyes.

"He did, and I said yes." She turned briefly to Erik, smiling. "I told you, Raoul, I love him." Claude and Antoinette smiled broadly as Claude began to rise, congratulations on his lips, but seeing the look on Raoul's face, he hurriedly sat back in his chair. Christine reached out imploringly. "I cannot deny my feelings, to you or to myself. You must find a way to accept my decision and find a way to accept Erik as well. For me, Raoul. Please."

Antoinette stared at the table, sorrow filling her heart at Raoul's plight. It was obvious to her how much he loved Christine, but what kind of love? It did not reflect his heart as Erik's love did

his. Erik seemed to always want Christine to do what she wished. Raoul wanted Christine to do what he wished. It seemed to Antoinette that one was selfless while the other…

Without thinking, she reached her hand and placed it on Raoul's arm for the second time that day. Lifting her eyes to his, she tried to convey her compassion at his heartbreak. He looked back, briefly covering her hand with his own.

Christine watched with interest the exchange between them. Raoul's arrogance had gone, and in its place she saw a dawning maturity. She only hoped his acceptance would come as well. Perhaps things could change.

Raoul sighed and looked down at the table for the longest time. When he gazed at Christine once more, the tears she saw were of the same type witnessed during her last night on the stage, when she knew that betrayal was imminent, but not realizing whose betrayal it really was. She had betrayed them all. Erik, when she removed his mask, exposing him to the world. Raoul, when she left him and pushed the boat away, returning to her true love. But herself most of all, for not following her heart in the first place, creating the chaos they now found themselves immersed in. She was as helpless to stop it then as she was now, because she'd refused to accept what she knew in her heart to be true. It had always been Erik. No one but him.

"All right, Christine. I have no choice but to accept your decision. I do not however, have to accept his-Erik's, attempt on my life. I want him arrested and brought to trial."

Erik had taken in the scene and wondered at the outcome. Raoul's response did not surprise him.

Christine spoke softly to Raoul, pleading now for Erik's life.

"Raoul, he could have killed you, but he didn't. I knew he would not have. He was no less desperate than you. Can't you see that? He let you go. Please, don't do this to him, to me. Please."

"Christine, you don't know what you ask of me!"

"Yes, I do. If I didn't think you could do this, I wouldn't ask."

He hesitated a moment before he spoke.

"I need time to think." He rose from the table stalking to the far side of the grotto.

Erik looked at the other three, still seated with him.

"Well, Christine, that went well."

----------

The four sat at the table running through their plan for some time, no one noticing that Raoul had been watching from across the room. He tentatively approached the table and all eyes turned to him in surprise.

"I've been listening to your plan – Erik. You have a serious flaw. How do you propose M Legarde to get you past the checkpoints? You've already raised suspicion once. You won't get past them a second time."

"And what would you suggest, Raoul? Only a moment ago, you would have been delighted to have me captured by the gendarme."

"Perhaps…but it is no longer what I want that needs to be addressed. It is Christine's desire that I need to honor. She has asked me to set aside my _differences_ with you. I am willing to try. She wants to leave the city – with you," he sighed deeply, "and I can help. I do this for her, Erik, not for you."

Claude had left sometime earlier and returned now with M Legarde. Erik watched as the man looked around in apprehension and awe. For him, this place had been his home, all he'd ever really known. For anyone else, he knew it must be a place of questions and uncertainties. Claude had asked how he could have spent most of his life here. He was sure Jacques wondered the same.

"Jacques, this is my good friend, Erik. Erik, this is Jacques Legarde. He has agreed to help us in our plan to leave the city."

Once again, the word "friend", struck Erik, as if it was one from another language he was hearing for the first time. He watched the hesitation on Jacques' face before he nodded and reached out. Erik smiled bemusedly and shook Jacques hand, probably the first time he'd ever done so in his life.

"So, monsieur, you think you will be able to assist us in our journey? I hope you are ready for what you will encounter. Our lives may depend upon your willingness."

They continued to make their plans until Claude looked at his watch and mentioned the time.

"Antoinette, perhaps you should start dinner. We shall be getting hungry soon and I think we have little left to discuss for the time being." She smiled at her father and rose from the table to begin preparations. Christine had become more tired with each passing hour until she had finally rested her head upon Erik's shoulder. Raoul had watched the two throughout the conversation, noticing for the first time how gentle and patient Erik seemed to be with her. The adoration she felt for him was obvious every time she looked at him. Raoul fought against the pain of wishing for the impossible; that she could love him that same way, but the more he watched their interaction, the more he realized it would never be. As long as this Erik lived, and perhaps beyond, her heart would always belong to him alone.

Erik reached his hand to Christine.

"Christine, my love, it's time you got some rest. I'll bring your dinner when it's ready. This was your first day up and it's been a long one. Let me help you to your bed."

"No, Erik. I can find my way. You have things to finish here." She nodded knowingly in Raoul's direction and smiled at them both.

"Please. I will be fine." She rose slowly and headed for her bed, Antoinette following behind.

"I shall see to her, Erik, and will return shortly."

The two women left. Raoul looked around the table and, clearing his throat, made his move to leave.

"Raoul." Erik spoke quietly but his tone stopped Raoul cold to question what was on Erik's mind. Erik's face rapidly changed from intense to bland as he addressed Raoul.

"Don't worry, Vicomte. I have no intention of anything other than to suggest you take the back way out this time instead of traipsing through the lake again. Much easier on the health." He turned back to Jacques to finish making a point, a devilish smile playing about his lips.

"Monsieur Vicomte. Allow me to show you the way out, sir." Claude approached him, extending a nervous hand in the direction of the proper tunnel. Raoul thought it interesting that, after having spent the day with them all, Claude should still be uneasy around him. He had never noticed before how others treated him. He'd never had reason to. Everyone was either a peer or servant. Until now.

"Thank you, Claude. Will I be able to return the same way in the future?"

Erik's head shot around and he eyed Raoul with suspicion.

"Do not worry, Erik. I gave Christine my word. I will not go back on that. But I shall need to return of course, and I do prefer the drier path as you said." Erik reluctantly nodded his understanding then turned away again, dismissing Raoul.

Claude led Raoul some way through the tunnel before Raoul spoke.

"Have you known Erik a long time, Claude?"

"Oui, Monsieur. He has been a part of my family for many years now, though he would never say that he is."

"And how is it that you came to know him?"

"He saved my Antoinette's life when she was very young. She had been attacked in the street, at night. He rescued her and returned her to my wife and me. He has been my responsibility ever since, though he does not know that."

"You have a wife then?"

Even in the torchlight, Raoul could see the dark cloud that passed in front of Claude's face.

"Had, Monsieur. She…died some time ago now. I miss her very much."

"What happened?" Raoul found the little man interesting. Until he asked about Claude's wife, the older man seemed to always have a spark in his eyes that Raoul had rarely seen in anyone. _Perhaps in some ways, he is not so different from me. Tragedy can strike each of us after all._

"Some type of blood disease. At least that's what Erik called it. A 'poisoning of the blood' for which there is no real cure. He fought for her life for days but in the end - well, God took her home. Erik could do nothing to stop it. For a long time he blamed himself. I'm not sure he has ever really stopped." His voice dropped off as if he spoke his last words to himself. Raoul listened with a new awareness of his enemy. _Perhaps this monster has a heart – even a soul - after all._ He had seen how tenderly he cared for Christine. He'd even watched Erik at the table, as if Erik was a human being after all. He knew he could have given Christine everything she could have ever needed, but not what she wanted-the kind of love that Erik could share with her. He'd watched them during Don Juan as they pledged their souls to each other, in front of hundreds, something she could never bring herself to do to him, even in private. _I love you Christine. I love you enough to give you what you want. _He would not go back on his word to her. He would help them escape the city.

Antoinette had just finished getting Christine settled when Erik came round the corner.

"Well, Christine, I'll be going to get dinner ready. I'm sure you'll have company until then. Erik." She nodded at him, winked at Christine and left. Christine watched Erik approach her bedside.

"You need to sleep, Christine. I shall wake you when your meal is ready. I wanted to see that you are all right first."

"I am fine, a bit tired perhaps but…" She looked at him pensively for a moment. "Erik, do you think you and Raoul will ever find a way to exist together in the same world? It pains me to see you both circling the way two bull elk do when they vie for their own territories. You must believe in my love for you. Raoul will eventually let go of his feelings. But you ruffle his feathers at every opportunity and that does not help things."

"Christine, I merely have a bit of fun at his expense. If it hurts you, my love, then I shall stop. He 'ruffles' so easily though, that it makes it quite amusing – "

"Well, I don't care for it. I know he is hurting. I have pledged you my heart, but I did care for him at one time, though only as a childhood friend. Please, Erik. I am yours. Leave him to find his own heart without hatred. He will never take mine from you." She looked at him with eyes full of tenderness, willing him to accept her and to trust her.

-----------

Raoul entered his town home, discouraged and heavy hearted. If he had kept his eye closed before, they were wide open now he could no longer mistake Christine's intentions. She would stay with Erik, and nothing else mattered to her. Sighing, he went to the library and poured a brandy. The servants had a fire burning and he swirled the amber liquid before it, watching as it coated the snifter, running down to join its source; swirling up the side again, to repeat it's path, over and over. He realized he was the brandy in the glass, swirling up the side of his life, trying to reach the rim, and Christine, only to run down to pool and start once more. Bringing the snifter to his lips, he threw his head back, draining it in one swallow. He must do the same with his life. Swallow it whole and hope to begin anew.

Pouring another drink, he went to his desk and, with pen and ink, began to make notes of the things he would need to arrange within the next two days. _For you, Christine. Only for you._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Raoul had come and gone again twice over the past two days. He spent the first day in discussion with Erik, Claude and Jacques, finalizing plans and then putting what they could into action. His many suggestions ranged from hiding in a hay wagon to a hearse. At almost every turn, Erik grumbled, unhappy with his suggestions and the situation they put Erik in. Raoul watched as he countered one plan after another, pacing the room like an animal caught in a trap. Erik's actions and demeanor made him wonder what could drive a man so menacing to such an argumentative state of mind. When the suggestion of the hearse came up, he got his answer.

"I will not subject Christine to anything so morbid. A hearse may be fine for me, Raoul, and I may very well end up in one by the time all is said and done, but _not _Christine. Find another way."

"Erik." Though the name had him choking the first few times he'd uttered it, Raoul found it less difficult to pronounce each time he said it. If this was Christine's desire, so be it.

"I have given you several different options, all well thought out and yet you rile at every one. I cannot help you if you cannot see some validity in any idea put forth." He watched as Erik sat at the table taking his pencil to paper and beginning to draw.

"Ah, Raoul. You think it so easy to suddenly lick the hand that saves me, rather than once again attempt to tear it off? Even a dog learns mistrust."

"I cannot force you to trust me. I can only reiterate again, though I do this for Christine, you reap the benefit. I only wish her to be happy and she seems to think you will do that. You cannot stay in Paris and she won't let you leave alone. But I would never put her life at risk therefore; I cannot do that to you. Do you understand this?"

"Oh yes," Erik looked Raoul up and down, trying to discern his sincerity. "I understand your reasoning. But I have never understood your emotions and those cause my mistrust."

Raoul returned Erik's gaze seeing, what? Fear? Could this 'man' who so intimidated, be afraid?

"What will it take to convince you that I will not turn you in?"

"You hide in the back, Raoul, and I'll ride in the open. Perhaps you will then know what it is like to be the hunted rather than the hunter. Oh, but wait! That will never be. How foolish of me to forget something so obvious? That you are free to walk among men, no fear of becoming the prey to someone's revulsion."

Raoul watched as Erik turned back to the drawing he had been working on, and for a moment wondered at the horrendous events that shaped this man's life.

The morning of the second day set their final plan into motion. Raoul brought the clothing they would all need in order to execute their plan. Phillipe, his servant, had removed a uniform from the livery cupboard that would outfit Claude without worry. Jacques had his own uniform as he hired out his carriage from time to time. Raoul had taken several pieces from one of his mother's forgotten trunks. Though the clothing was still fashionable, he knew his mother had moved on to new designs and would never miss it. Both Christine and Antoinette were of the same size as his mother and the clothing would serve perfectly. A mourning dress and veil would cover Christine to the world. With the veil, no one would ever know her real identity. Christine had taken her package somberly and nodded her thanks but gave no other sign of emotion. He turned from her to watch Antoinette's face as he handed her the package of a dress, hat and accessories. Though guarded with fear of the upcoming flight, he could see her delight with what he had brought and realized she had probably never had anything as fine. It pleased him some measure to think he could make her smile though he could not say why.

The remainder of the day he spent with a trusted servant, readying the coaches that would take his beloved and the man she loved to freedom. They had worked out the plan in great detail. Jacques would drive the Berlin Coupe, which would be dressed in full mourning, carrying black harness, reins, lanterns, everything as it should be. Relatively plain, it was boxy in design but sported windows all around. A good traveling carriage for the nobility when it came to medium distance travel. Jacques would be attired in mourning suit as well, to match the occasion. With the DeChagny crest on the side of the coach, the gendarme would have very little reason to stop him other than formalities. Christine would ride inside, the windows covered by black curtains. Should the gendarme dare request a glance, they would see Christine in mourning. She would be a DeChagny cousin, on her way to an aunt's funeral. And if the gendarme had any sense at all, they would not intrude with more than a cursory inspection at best. Raoul would be an hour behind in his Victoria, with Phillipe as the driver and Antoinette by his side, on a leisurely ride in the country. Neither driver nor occupants should raise suspicion.

The real test would be Erik. Claude would leave early in the morning, in the Brougham, on pretense of retrieving goods purchased in an outlying town, along with a newly hired servant for the household. Erik would be secluded under a tarp which had been added to the back. It slanted off the roof and was secured to the luggage rack; protection for any baggage from the elements. Since Claude would appear to be leaving alone, there should be no reason for any inspection at all. If Erik could endure the confinement, Raoul was certain the plan would work without any problems. But, could Erik endure utter helplessness? He'd had a brief glimpse into this man's mind and had begun to gain a new appreciation for Erik's will to survive. He knew it went against Erik's character to submit to anything other than his own will which gave him some small amount of grudging admiration for the man. These thoughts ran over in his mind as he continued readying the coaches for the morning's flight.

----------

Christine watched with amusement as Antoinette tried on the dress Raoul had brought for her. Because she had worn many fine and beautiful things at the opera house Christine had never really given Antoinette's serviceable attire a second thought. But the look on her friend's face reminded Christine how blessed her life had been. And Antoinette looked lovely in the emerald green velvet. With her blonde hair she made a striking picture and Christine wondered if Raoul had realized how much it would compliment her features.She had noted his look when Antoinette took the package from him. Watching his face, she knew another would eventually take her place in his heart, if only he would allow it.

"Antoinette, you look charming."

"Oh, Christine, never have I worn anything so wonderful before. It is beautiful. And it fits!"

"Well, it is very becoming to you, that is true. You will be turning all the young men's eyes with that dress on."

"Oh, never. Not like you do. I have seen them all as they turn to look at you."

"I only want one man's attention. And I no longer doubt that I have it completely."

The girls smiled knowingly at each other as Antoinette began to dance around the grotto, twirling her skirts and laughing.

----------

Erik paced round the table, as if trying to wear a path in the rock floor. Claude watched him, worry etched on his face.

"Erik, things will go well. You must believe. The plan holds to scrutiny and there is nothing to raise anyone's suspicion in it. We will be fine."

"I have been thrust into the position of trusting my worst enemy and it grates with my every thought. I feel trapped in a cage…at everyone's mercy but my own. I have learned that nothing in life carries a guarantee. And if we clear the checkpoint, what then? What help will I be to Christine once I am well away when she comes through the checkpoint? What then, Claude?"

"You would be no help regardless, Erik. Even if you were at the checkpoint, should something go wrong, there would be too many armed officers for you to subdue. You are only one man."

"But Christine…"

"Erik, please. You must now put your trust in someone other than yourself."

Erik looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"You must trust that God will see us through this. He is the only one who can."

"How do I trust someone I don't know, Claude? Can you tell me that?"

----------

The commander set one of his men to following Raoul for the past few days. He wasn't sure why, but his instinct told him all was not right with this entire situation. He felt sure Raoul knew more than he let on. _No matter. When I have the Phantom in my hands, the city of Paris will lay at my feet. I will run the Sûreté! _He spent a moment in front of the mirror, imagining his new title then moved to his desk. Before he could sit, a knock sounded.

"Entre." In no mood for interruptions, the commander barked the order. The door opened slowly and he saw one of his officers look round the edge.

"Well? What is it, man? Don't stand there peering in like there is an inferno here. Come in and tell me what you want!"

"Commander, we have news of the Vicomte and his activities."

"Well, spit it out man! I have important matters to attend." The commander gave him a glare that would burn wood, making the young officer squirm his way into the office.

"We have followed the Vicomte, as you directed sir. But both days, we have lost him for hours on end."

"Lost him? What do you mean _you lost him_? You fools! You must have let him see you."

"No, sir, we are certain he did not notice us. Both times he approached the Opera House he seemed to disappear before our eyes. We searched but found no trace of him. Several hours later, we discovered him back at his town home."

"And you have no clue where he had gone?" The officer shook his head. The commander sat at his desk, putting his feet on it, and thought about what this might mean. Suddenly, he had it! The Vicomte must be entering the Opera House, but how? And more importantly, why? What would there be there for him? Except…

----------

Morning dawned and with it came hope, fear and anticipation for everyone involved. Once they set the plan in motion, they could not turn back. Their fate would be decided the minute Erik's carriage left. He only hoped those he left behind would reach their destination safely. Le Raincy lay roughly 40 kilometers from the point they departed the city. They would need to make good time and pray they would encounter no obstacles.

----------

Raoul was true to his word and delivered the first carriage during the night, to the stalls M Legard used. Claude was dressed for his part and though he was nervous beyond measure, he was still able to appreciate his appearance as was Antoinette.

"Papa, you look so handsome. Maman would be so pleased."

"Oui, Antoinette, I'm sure she would have." He paused and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "But we have much to do today and must all be aware of everything around us. We cannot lose sight of our goal today. Antoinette," again he paused, "I want you to know, that no matter what happens today, your maman would be so proud of you. You are a lovely young woman, both in appearance and temperament, and she would have been so–" He stopped speaking as the tears began to well. Antoinette walked to him, putting her arms around him and hugging him tight.

"Papa, I love you. You are the best Papa I could have ever wanted. We will be fine. Don't worry about me, you will have your hands full today with Erik." He pulled away just in time to see her wink as Erik rounded the corner.

"His hands full with me, Antoinette? I won't be any bother at all. I'll be stuffed in the back like so much luggage."

The thought of seeing Erik stuffed anywhere at all brought laughter to her lips before she could stop herself. Telling them what brought her laughter broke the tension in the room as Claude joined in the laughter and even Erik had to smile.

Christine heard laughter as she entered the room. Looking at each of them, she wondered what could be so funny on this worry-filled morning. Erik watched her enter and strode to her, still smiling as he held out his arms to her. She let him envelope her in his arms.

"Christine, it is all right. None of us has been drinking. Antoinette seems to think I will make quite a sight pretending to be luggage." Christine remained still for a moment, then lowered her head and began to shake. Antoinette and Claude became very quiet.

"Shhh, Christine. It will go smoothly, do not worry. Everything will be all right. Truly." Erik began to become concerned as she shook even harder, her face pressed against his chest. "Christine, please. I'm sure–" Christine pulled away from Erik to reveal tearstained cheeks and a delighted smile.

"Erik, I am sorry, but what a picture that made for me. You! As luggage. The fearsome Opera Ghost reduced to a leather satchel." Before he could react to her mention of his former self, she began to laugh again, harder this time, Antoinette and Claude joining in again. Rather than feel affronted by the comment, he too began to chuckle, realizing the absurdity of the situation. When they had poured out their mirth, Erik once again brought them back to the gravity of their situation.

"Though I would love to enjoy this moment, Claude and I must be leaving. It's time." He watched as Claude hugged Antoinette close. Pulling Christine to him again, he held her tight, lacing his fingers in her hair and pressing her cheek to his chest once again. Nestling his face at her ear, he spoke softly.

"Christine. Always remember how very much I love you. I will always love you, no matter what happens. You are my music, Christine, my life." Looking up at him, she smiled.

"Erik, my love, nothing will ever separate us again. I will meet you at our rendezvous point. Just be careful and be there when I arrive. And I will arrive. I love you, Erik. Always…" Reaching up with both hands, she cradled his masked face in them, gazing into his eyes. She saw his raw emotion, something she knew he never showed in front of others. Pulling his face to hers, she met his lips lightly, tentatively, then could not hold back. Pressing her mouth to him, she poured all the passion she felt for this man into her kiss. She felt him respond but was helpless to stop. She felt his arms tighten around her and for a moment, everything disappeared for her but the two of them. She wanted this moment to last a lifetime, but knew it could not. Finally she broke the kiss, her pulse racing, breathing ragged. She heard Claude as he cleared his throat and remembered where they were. Smiling up at Erik once again, she rested her fingers lightly on his cheek. She wanted to remember this moment, every piece of him because this day brought no guarantees and in her heart of hearts, she knew there was a chance someone might not survive.

----------

Raoul paced his study awaiting his time to leave. He'd risen early after a fitful night's sleep. Nervousness mixed with a strange sense of exhilaration as things began to fall into place. He had led a typical nobleman's life. The finest clothes, the fanciest soirees, the richest wines and the best bred horses. Everything a man could want for a life of luxury. But this! This feeling of subterfuge, the excitement. Nothing had prepared him for this. This was a game he could appreciate. For a brief moment, he pictured his Victoria, sweeping lines, gleaming body, velvet lining, always with a matched pair to pull the rig. And Antoinette beside him in the dark emerald velvet he'd brought her. Blonde hair shining, she would be stunning. Confusion and anger overtook his thoughts as he realized his traitorous turn from Christine. _She is the love of my life! _But he could not deny the feelings that aroused him as he returned to his room to dress for the day's adventure.

----------

The Brougham approached the checkpoint looking every bit the serviceable vehicle it was intended to. Claude sat straight-backed in the driver's seat, reins in hand and whip at the ready. The papers were in order, signed by Raoul DeChagny himself, and should pass inspection with no more than a glance. The additional officers milling about the area worried Claude. _Shouldn't be this many gendarme here. Something must be up._ He awaited his place in line behind two other vehicles, which also looked to be about the same business this morning. The officer in charge approached each driver as two others inspected the carriages for anything suspicious. Claude's breathing became shallow, his heart raced as his time neared. He fought the nervousness in an attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible. As the coach in front of him left the checkpoint, he pulled forward and prayed.

"Your papers." The gendarme barked at him and he held out the papers with a hand much steadier than he was. He refrained from speaking; only watched what the two inspecting officers were doing.

"Picking up goods and a new servant for the household, oui? Male servant? Or female?"

"Female, sir." Claude wondered what had prompted him to answer with that and was sorry the minute he had.

"Aha, female. And what do you know of her? Young? Old? Fat? Skinny? Someone you may want to 'introduce' to the ways of the household before your return trip?" The officer found his insinuation funny, laughing at his own wit. Claude looked at him with a bland expression though his instinct was to pound the man into the ground.

"I do not know, sir. I was only told to meet her at the boarding house in Le Raincy."

"And what do you carry in the luggage area?"

"Nothing, sir. It is empty."

"Curious as to why you would have it enclosed then. Is there something there you wish us not to see?"

"No, sir, it was never raised after its last use." He made a sudden decision, playing his hand. "Shall I raise it for you now, sir?"

Erik bit his tongue when he hear Claude's question to the captain. _Claude, what in God's name?_ Steeling himself for the inevitable, he heard the officers near the back of the carriage. He could see the edge of the tarp moving and knew the officers must be trying to untie it. Wondering how many would surround him and whether he could take the lot, he braced himself as he waited for the tarp to be raised.

"No, never mind. You may go. Let him pass."

Claude didn't hesitate. Clicking the horses into action, the Brougham lurched forward, bouncing Erik into the tarp that covered him. _I don't have to worry about the officers finding me. You'll kill me with your driving, Claude, before we can get away!_

One of the officers watched something bump against the inside of the tarp as the Brougham drove off.

'_Odd, I thought the driver said the luggage area was empty…'_


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N **I am sorry to those of you waiting for this. With the WB board closing, it has been a very long week. But I will be back to schedule now, I hope. Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 18

Christine sat quietly in the Coupe, though her thoughts raced. They had all taken the chance at returning to the inn last night. The convenience of being close to the carriages was one reason, but the thought of sleeping in a real bed had also been enticing. Their journey would take two days, three at the most but they could not tell what they might encounter along the way. Le Raincy offered a small inn, a few tiny businesses, a church, some homes, but nothing more. If they could find no rooms when they arrived— and what of Erik? Would he enter the inn? Show himself? Christine worried that the mask would expose them all. Better they sleep in the woods, than to give themselves away in such a manner. Too many thoughts wound through her mind as they neared the checkpoint. She had not gotten the sleep she craved, and neither had the others. She felt like a walking ghost and the irony was not lost on her.

Christine felt the Coupe come to a stop and knew they had finally reached the edge of the city. Now they must wait their turn to pass. She took little glimpses out the window, trying not to disturb the curtains and draw attention. Jacques had been given the papers before they left. He would be the one the gendarme dealt with. She hoped.

----------

Raoul had come by a back way to the stables, watching carefully for any sign that he'd been followed. His butler had reported to him a man who continued to pass the house, several times a day. Upon closer inspection, Raoul saw two additional men, one stationed at each end of the block, also watching the house and he knew they suspected something. He would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right if he could avoid it. He could not put Christine in that kind of danger. So, he had one of the house servants dress as a nobleman and leave the house earlier than he'd planned, with a list of destinations in order to lure the men from the house. Allowing enough time for his decoy to draw the spies away, he and Phillipe left the house by the back exit and made their way to the stalls. He saw that the Brougham and the Coupe had already gone and hoped that all had gone well. _If not, I'll know soon enough. _

Raoul left Phillipe with the Victoria. He would see that the horses were hitched properly and the carriage gleamed. No young nobleman worth his weight would escort his current paramour in anything less. The officers at the checkpoint would know this and take note if it were not just so. Rauol's thoughts strayed from the task at hand to the passenger he would carry. He wondered how she would look in something nicer than the serviceable attire she was accustomed to. Remembering the color of the dress, he imagined her hair lying against the material. She would make a beautiful paramour for any man. Yes, a very beautiful paramour indeed.

He arrived at the back door to the inn, certain once again that no one had followed. He rapped on the door three times, but got no answer. He frowned, consternation crossing his brow. Rapping again, he could hear no movement on the other side and began to worry. Surely Antoinette should have been waiting for him. He had not wanted to leave her alone. No true gentleman would. But for the plan to work, there had been no other way. Should Christine and Antoinette be seen together, the risk, though slim, was still too great to chance. He waited another moment, then became certain something must be wrong. He tried the door handle only to find it unlocked. He eased the door open lest someone should be on the other side, and peered into the kitchen area. It was empty. Where was she? He entered quietly, closing the door behind him. Listening, he heard nothing. Moving out of the kitchen and down the hall, he heard something clatter to the floor behind a door near the end of the hall. He put his ear to it and heard an angry voice on the other side— Antoinette. Though he heard no other voice, he could hear the tremor as she once again threw angry words at someone. He laid his hand on the door trying to decide his best course of action. He was unarmed and would be no match for anyone who may be. Again he heard her, panic now lacing her words though the words themselves were not clear. Suddenly, the room behind the door was deathly silent. He decided his best course of action would be to rush the room, shouting as he entered, in an attempt to catch whoever else was in the room off-guard. Drawing a deep breath, he turned the handle and shoved with his shoulder at the same time, bursting into the room shouting. He felt the knock on his head and heard the shattering glass at the same time he was set upon from behind.

----------

The air of tension inside the coupe was palpable. Christine suddenly felt like a bird, trapped in a cage with no means of escape. What if this didn't work? She would never see her beloved Erik again. She had talked herself into believing the worst scenario possible and had allowed it to fester, agitating her beyond what she could imagine. She could hear the officers speaking and knew her carriage must be the next in line. _God, please let everything be all right, _she prayed as she felt the carriage move forward.

Jacques handed the papers to the officer approaching the carriage. Looking as somber as possible, he sat quietly, waiting out the decision.

"Death in the family, oui? In Meaux? That is a long drive. Three, four days perhaps. I don't see much luggage for a trip of that length."

"We will be stopping in Le Raincy. Mme was visiting here when the news came. We packed— quickly." Jacques kept his voice even and bland. The officer was obviously sharper than he'd expected.

"Ah, I know Le Raincy. I have family there. I do not remember anything that would house someone of her title. No manor, no villa. She is a DeChagny, is she? A long way from their manor."

"A cousin, sir. Mme's home is in Meaux. She was visiting." Jacques thought he was starting to sound like a parrot and decided the less said, the better. He watched as two other officers walked round the coach, stopping to brush their hand along the DeChagny crest on the door. It took a moment for the reason to come to him. Crests could be painted at a moment's notice by a good artist. Papers could be forged. But the crest on this carriage was unmistakably real, and Jacques was confident there would be no problem.

A few more moments of exterior inspection and the officer in charge looked satisfied.

"Be aware, sir, there have been reports of robbers about. I would hate to see so fine a carriage come under attack. Oh, or the Mme in question as well. Let this carriage pass."

Jacques noticed the order of importance the officer had placed on them and was not surprised. He tch'ed the horses forward, out of the city.

----------

They'd gone about 2 kilometers from the city when Claude found a copse of trees that would accommodate the carriage and turned the horses toward it. Once secluded, he left his seat walking around the back of the carriage, where he saw the edge of the tarp jerking back and forth along with a stream of words he was more used to hearing in the tavern. He laughed aloud which only caused the tugging and grumbling to multiply.

"Claude, rather than stand there laughing, your energy would be better served in _getting me out of here."_

"Oui, Erik. I can do that though you do make an interesting sight." He went to the tarp untying the end and releasing Erik who escaped it red faced and disheveled.

"I am glad that I could provide your day's entertainment, though I found nothing what-so-ever to laugh it."

Claude watched Erik as he glared back but the look on Erik's face once more brought laughter from him. Erik's look of astonishment only made his laugh more exuberant which in turn broke Erik down and he too, began to laugh joining Claude in a rare moment.

Erik settled himself in the carriage, pulling the satchel he had concealed from under the seat. Though the papers Raoul had provided Christine were authentic, Erik did not trust to luck and had secured an extra set he had made, along with some food, water and medical supplies. The main store of food and supplies was in the carriage with Christine as the hope was she would not be bothered at the checkpoint. A second change of clothing, along with his sword and cape had also been secured in his carriage and he removed them now as well. He had no wish to be caught unawares.

----------

Raoul pitched forward with the weight of whoever had pounced on him. His chest hit the floor and he began to roll as he was being pummeled from behind. Wrestling himself loose, he flipped on his back, dislodging whoever had hit him. He rolled his weight onto his attacker while being beaten about the chest. As they grunted and growled, fighting each other, he tried unsuccessfully to grab the hands and when that didn't work, he drew his arm back to strike with his fist, but stopped abruptly when his attacker began to scream. Blinking rapidly to clear his mind, the image that appeared before him was not at all what he'd expected. Antoinette lay beneath him, the green dress closed at her waist with the bodice tangled in her skirts, her only other covering a sheer chemise which showed her to an advantage. For a moment, neither moved, simply staring at each other in disbelief. Antoinette was the first to regain some sense of self and attempted pull the bodice to cover herself with some semblance of modestly. Raoul, still slack-jawed, clamped his mouth shut, blushed scarlet and turned, clearing his throat several times in an attempt to regain some control. He could hear her scrambling behind him. Finding his voice, he attempted an apology as he helped her from the floor.

"I, ah, excuse me, Antoinette, I, I, um…are you all right?"

"Monsieur! What do you think you're doing breaking through my door like that?"

"Antoinette, I— I thought I heard—"

"And just what did you 'think you heard' that would cause an entrance such as that?"

"Mme," Raoul began as he pulled himself to his full height, "I had no idea what to think. I heard a crash and angry noises and could only think the worst. I _thought_ you needed assistance!"

"And I thought, sir, that you were one of the gendarme, or a robber, attempting I don't know what!"

"Well, obviously, I am not that. And it would appear you do not need my assistance after all"

"The only assistance I seem to need is someone to help me into this robe damnée! Mon Dieu! No wonder your nobility needs someone to dress them!"

They stared at each other in silence until Raoul began to laugh. Antoinette glared at him as if he was an idiot before she too, began laughing. When they had once again quieted, Raoul looked behind him to see a large hand mirror, or what was left of one, lying shattered on the floor. He looked back at Antoinette, smirking.

"What did you thing you were going to do with the mirror?"

"Well, if you must know, I had been using it trying to do something with these laces. But it wasn't working and then I heard a noise in the hall. I hid behind the door and when the door burst open I thought to bash whoever it was over the head with it in defense."

"Yes, well, you bashed me, though it did little harm however, you managed to kill the mirror. And how could it possibly help you with your laces?"

"I was of a mind that I could hold it to see behind me with one hand while I tried lacing this dress with the other, but it wasn't working very well."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. Why didn't Christine help you this morning?"

"Too much left for me to do, I didn't want to soil this. It is rather lovely." She sighed as she pressed the bodice to her, her fingers skimming the fabric.

Raoul could hear the wistful tone in her voice and was very glad he'd chosen that particular dress for her.

"If you think you won't be too embarrassed, I could help you into it. I'm not unversed in these things. I helped my mother often when I was a little boy. It's how I learned to lace my shoes."

Antoinette eyed him with some skepticism as to the real reason he could help, then nodded slightly allowing him to approach her.

"You'll have to put the top on before I can lace the back."

Antoinette turned her back and struggled into the sleeves while trying to remain as covered as possible. Finally, the bodice was in place and Raoul pulled the sides of the dress together and began to lace. She had pulled her braided hair in front of her and as he neared the neckline, he noticed her ivory skin against the emerald green of the material. He reached the top, his fingers brushing against her, and he felt a tiny shiver go through her. _She really is quite lovely _he thought as he took her shoulders and turned her to him. Her blue eyes were round, the iris' dilated, desire evident in them and he knew he'd lit a spark in her. _What am I doing? My heart is Christine's! _But he was learning that the mind and the heart often disagreed. _Yes, lovely _he thought, as she continued to look at him, her mouth moist and tempting. He began to lean in to her when he shook his head, dropping his hands to his side.

"We must be going if we're to keep to the plan." He said, though he still gazed at her lips.

Finally breaking eye contact with him, Antoinette turned to check her hair in the floor mirror, grabbed her gloves and portefeuille, and handed her shawl to Raoul to place over her shoulders. He left his hands to linger upon her once again, then cleared his throat as he moved to the door.

"Shall we go?"

"Oui, Monsieur, it is time." She wove her arm through his and together, they left the room to play at a pretense that showed signs of becoming something more.

Raoul led Antoinette to the stables the same way he'd come, staying as inconspicuous as possible though he knew any man seeing her would stop to stare at her beauty. Phillipe had the team hitched and the Victoria ready when they arrived. He helped Antoinette into the carriage as Raoul went round the other side, climbing in to settle himself next to her. The Victoria was designed to keep the couple as close together as possible and remain comfortable, and Raoul took advantage of it, motioning to Antoinette to take his arm again. He could feel her warmth through his sleeve and it stirred in him again, the war between heart and head. He felt in his heart he had betrayed Christine, but his head knew she would never be his. Antoinette had tucked her arm through his once more, placing her free hand on his arm as well. Phillipe pulled the Victoria out of the stables as they began their ride to Le Raincy.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The Victoria glided through the city, driven by a pair of the finest horses money could buy. The sun was out, the weather was balmy and Raoul could not imagine a more encouraging beginning to the day ahead.

_Intrigue, subterfuge, at last, something more than the boring day to day existence I live. And Antoinette…_

His head was smart enough to appreciate her beauty, even while his heart still grieved his loss of Christine. He was pragmatic enough to know that he would never be her knight in shining armor. He'd imagined a fairy tale ending to a dream she hadn't really shared. Christine's future held only Erik now, and though it pained him to lose her to such a man, he would need to move on.

Antoinette promised to be an excellent companion for the day. But companion was not quite the word to describe her, though he was hesitant to credit her with anything more than that. He turned to look at her, noticing she watched him closely. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it quickly, turning from him.

"Antoinette? What is it? Did you wish to say something?"

"Monsieur Vicomte. Only that you seem to be a million miles from here."

"I am sorry, Antoinette. I did have my mind on— other things, for a moment, yes. And please, if we are to appear familiar, you must call me Raoul. It would not do to call me Vicomte in front of the gendarme."

"Ah, oui— Raoul." The name felt comfortable to say, though she was a bit hesitant to use it. He was the Nobility, after all. And this was only a charade, for the sake of those involved and nothing more.

"Please, don't be nervous. We are out for an afternoon drive into the country, to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Just enjoy it with me. Everything will go as planned."

Antoinette remembered the feelings that had stirred in her back in her room, the look on his face, and wondered what exactly his motives were for this part of the plan. Christine had told her how demanding he could be, taking for granted that she would do as she was told, and wondered if he was expecting the same from her as well.

"I am sorry. I am just worried about today, that everything will go well. And I'm afraid the gendarme will see through our charade. I am not, you must admit, the type of woman a Vicomte usually takes for an afternoon ride." She watched as he looked her over, blatantly assessing her from top to bottom, and shifted in her seat.

"Antoinette, you underestimate yourself. You are a beautiful woman and any man would be proud to have you accompany him for the day."

She wasn't sure if he had paid her a true compliment or was being falsely considerate as his station would dictate, in order to make her relax. Christine had told her what had happened those last days at the opera house, how he had insisted she place herself in a position that could hurt or even kill her, had things gone differently, and it made her question his motives now. Though Christine had also said he had done it out of his misguided love for her, still, it made her wonder what his thoughts were regarding her as her station was far below his. There would be no reason for him to think anything more of her than what she was, an innkeeper's daughter. And what of Christine? Christine didn't love Raoul, not the way she obviously loved Erik. She had said as much to Antoinette, several times. She and Christine had become fast friends. What would something like this do to their relationship should she begin to have designs of her own on Raoul? Designs; what kind of designs could an innkeepers daughter have on a Vicomte? Still, Christine had told her that she hoped he could love again. Perhaps she wouldn't be too upset at the thought. And he would make for a pleasant diversion, despite their difference in social standings though she knew it could never be anymore than that…

They traveled in silence for some time, Phillipe handling the team with perfect skill. Though the ride was pleasant, Raoul's mind kept wandering to past scenes.

He watched, as an outsider would, the night of Christine's debut. He realized how he must have sounded, ordering her to dinner. Never asking, just assuming she would go without hesitation. When he had insisted, over and over, that the Phantom was only in her mind, nothing more. When he had put her in harm's way by insisting she play the role in Don Juan to lure the Phantom into the open, and the subsequent results. He had expected her to respond to him the way any other person not of the nobility would, agreeing to his demands. It suddenly occurred to him that love would not have demanded that of her. But he realized now, those demands were a mistake he could never erase. The one right thing he had done was to listen to Christine at the cemetery when she pled with him not to kill Erik. At least she was civil to him now and maybe in time…had he killed the man however, she would have hated him forever. That thought was too hard to bear and was interrupted as the carriage drew to a stop in an effort to avoid one of the urchins that played in the streets of the city. Turning to make sure Antoinette was all right, he saw that she once again looked as if she wanted to speak. He wondered that she didn't just come out and say what she had on her mind, then realized what his rank in society really meant to her.

"Antoinette, please. I see you wish to speak. Feel free to do so. I won't bite you and would enjoy the conversation. If you continually wait for my nod to do so, it will be a very long ride."

"It is only that you seem so far away, Raoul. Is there something bothering you about today?"

"No, I was just thinking."

"Thinking, yes, sometimes thinking is not a good thing. I am finding that myself, the closer we get to the checkpoint. I hope we do not find that things have gone badly today."

"As do I, Antoinette, as do I."

Raoul put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, a little tighter than even he had planned, in an effort to give her some strength and reassurance. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, as if to absorb what he could offer. Remaining like that for some distance, he felt the same stirrings he had experienced earlier in the day.

She liked the feel of his arm around her and could understand Christine's initial feelings for him after seeing him last as a small boy. This was a very handsome man, and for a day, maybe two, she was in a position to enjoy what she would ordinarily never have an opportunity for. Time with a man, a true gentleman, not one of the sots from the tavern at the front of the inn. She'd had enough experience with that sort. Surely this man would be easier to handle than they were. With her head on his shoulder, she lost herself in her own thoughts of fairy tales and make believe.

They had gone quite a way, Raoul unsuccessfully trying to dispel the feelings that continued to stir in him at her touch. Looking past her station, he knew she would one day make some lucky man a beautiful wife. And if her temperament was any indication, it would never be boring. He hadn't gotten to know her well over the past few days. But her touch reached a part of his heart he thought was lost with Christine. She began to shift in her seat and he thought she was once again getting nervous at the days events. He wanted to help her relax, but had no idea just what would work. Looking back to the scene in her room, he remembered the expression on her face and knew, had he kissed her, she would have reciprocated in kind. Thinking he had nothing to lose, he lifted her chin, bent his head to her and did what he had wanted to do then. He touched his lips to hers, slowly, softly, lingering. When he pulled back from her, she had that same look of desire she'd had after he'd finished lacing her dress.

"Mmmm, yes. Better now? You were quite the spitfire in your room, managing a fairly good lump on my head with the mirror. I'd like to see that girl again, but won't if you don't relax a bit."

Antoinette was a bit shocked that he had kissed her, but couldn't deny that fact that it gave her pleasure. She wasn't sure if she should blush or kiss him again. She regained her composure and decided she would make the most of the opportunity presented. Sitting a bit closer to him, she allowed his solid strength to take her mind off the task at hand, even if for a brief amount of time. They still had some way to go before they reached the checkpoint, and she knew she would be wound tight as a spring if she could not relax at all. And he was very nice to relax against. She only hoped Christine would understand and not be angry with her, or break the friendship they had found in one another.

----------

Christine had not realized she'd held her breath until the carriage passed through the checkpoint. She sat on the edge of her seat, thinking it had gone much too easily and they would be pursued at any moment. Moving the curtain on her left enough to peek out, she neither heard nor saw anything other than the scenery as they passed. Finally, relaxing against the seat back with a large sigh, she accepted the truth. They had made it without being followed. It was now just a matter of time before she would be in Erik's arms once again, this time never to leave them.

----------

The Brougham sat secluded in the thick copse of trees, invisible to anyone passing by. The site had been perfect for a rendezvous point; the plan being that Christine's carriage would meet them and Erik would continue on with her, while Claude and Jacques waited for Antoinette. Once they met with her, Claude and Antoinette would continue to Le Raincy in the Coupe. Raoul would await the darkness to return to the city, Jacques squeezing onto the seat with Phillipe. In the dark there would be no reason to question. It seemed to Erik that he had been waiting for days, though it had only been a few hours. He paced the area until Claude took his arm, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Erik, you will wear yourself out before she arrives. And you're making me dizzy in the process. Sit, my friend. She will be here."

"How can you be sure? I should have stayed—"

"Non, Erik, you should not have. Or you would be in prison, and she would be left alone. She will be here. Now, sit."

Erik took a seat next to Claude at the base of a large tree, trying to keep his nervous energy at bay. Claude sat next to him, his head against the tree, eyes closed, looking like he hadn't a care in the world, instead of a man whose daughter might be in as much danger as Christine. He wondered at Claude's ability to remain so calm.

"Claude, I am driving myself mad over my worry for Christine. How can you sit so calmly and wait?"

"Erik, I can do nothing else at this point. I leave it all now in more capable hands and trust that He will bring them safely to us."

Claude had pointed upward as he'd spoken, and Erik knew who he meant. But the thought of a true God, one who really cared, was still such a foreign idea to him. Yes, he had prayed, but with little enthusiasm that what he had asked would be answered. He had always done it from desperation. But he knew they had nothing but time while they waited, and he pondered the things that the God he had asked favor from in desperation, had answered.

They had been sitting quietly for some time, both lost in their own thoughts when Erik suddenly grasped Claude's arm, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Tilting his head, he heard the sound of an approaching carriage. He released Claude, absently patting him as he got to his feet. Moving to the edge of the copse, he peered in the direction of the sound. Barely in view was a Coupe. His heart leapt with the thought that perhaps things would be all right after all. As the Coupe neared, he could see Jacques in the coachman's seat, whistling a tune with a slight smile on his face. It was all he could do to remain hidden from view lest someone else in the vicinity catch sight of him. Shortly before reaching the copse, Jacques pulled up the team and made as if he were inspecting something with the horses, but Erik and Claude knew he was making sure no one followed him. Seemingly satisfied, he tch'd the horses forward, toward the hidden cut-off and into the area behind the Brougham. Before he could dismount however, Erik wrenched the door open as Christine came tumbling out into his waiting arms.

----------

"Commander, sir!" The gendarme stood at full salute in the commander's door, eyes alight with excitement.

"What do you want? Who are you? Can't you see I'm busy?" The commander had been in a vile mood for several days since his men had lost track of Raoul. He saw his chance at a promotion fading with each passing day.

"Sir, my name is Officer Alain Dupree and I have news."

"I assumed that, man. Well, spit it out and then be gone! I have other more important things to do than wait for you to say what you came for."

"Sir, one of the men spotted the Vicomte's Victoria heading toward the northeast checkpoint, sir."

The commander jumped to his feet, knocking his chair into the wall behind him. Giving it no heed, he moved swiftly around his desk, advancing on Dupree who still stood in the doorway and now shrank in fear before him. As Dupree began to back away, the commander reached him, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him into the office, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Where? When was he seen? Was he alone? Tell me, man! I must know."

Dupree had opened and closed his mouth several times as the commander barked question after question at him. Finally giving up, he gave the commander a sheepish look and waited for the avalanche of questions to stop. As the commander stopped for a breath, Dupree saw his chance.

"Sir, Thomas saw the carriage about an hour ago, heading toward a checkpoint, with the Vicomte and a woman. They looked, he said, to be out for an afternoon picnic. Nothing more."

"A woman! Dark haired? Petite? Was it the Opera Singer, Daae?"

"No sir, he said this woman had blonde hair, braided down her back, very pretty. It could be the other woman that was with the Daae, but why would a Vicomte be with her? Her father runs an inn, or so she told us."

"Why, indeed? There is more here than meets the eye, and I will find the answers. Never fear."

Dupree watched as the commander went around his desk and rifled through a drawer. When at last he pulled a piece of paper from the desk, he advanced again, shoving the paper under Dupree's nose.

"This is the Daae. I want to know if she has been seen today. If the Vicomte was heading out of the city with her accomplice, then something is definitely underway and I believe I know what that is. They are all attempting some sort of escape. Take this to the northeast checkpoint and find out of the Daae has been seen today. I will be close behind. I must collect a few items before I leave."

Dupree took the line drawing of Christine the commander had held. It was exquisite in its detail and simplicity, beautifully rendered. It was common knowledge the drawing had been found at the opera house though the only indication as to the artist were the two small initials in a flowing script at the bottom left corner. E. D.

Dupree had arrived at the checkpoint a quarter hour before the commander. When he arrived, one look told him the commander was out for blood. He wore a pistol at his side, carried two long rifles across the saddle, and was accompanied by two high ranking officers. He realized this was serious business and hoped the commander would leave him at the checkpoint should he choose to continuethe search. Chasing down a Vicomte with a rifle was the last thing he wanted to be a part of.

"Well, man," the commander barked. "has anyone seen our quarry?"

"Non, commander, sir. The Vicomte passed this way over an hour ago, with the blonde girl, going on a picnic in the countryside. I am told they looked very much like lovers, sir. There was a Coupe that passed through this morning with the DeChangy crest carrying a cousin going to Meaux for a funeral. Other than that, sir, nothing odd."

At that comment, one of the officers who had been about that morning saw his chance and approached the commander.

"Sir, if I may?"

The commander looked him up and down, sneering at the officer's appearance. The man was dirty, disheveled and tired from a long day in the sun and the commander wanted nothing to do with him. But the look in the officer's eyes told the commander he may be wise to listen.

"What is it? Speak up! I haven't got all day."

"Sir," the officer began, loosing a bit of his nerve in the process. The commander was a formidable man when he was angry. "I did see something very odd this morning, sir. There was a Brougham that passed through here early this morning. It was going to Le Raincy to pick up supplies and a new household servant for someone. The driver was traveling light, with no luggage, but as he started forward after questioning, I thought I saw something bounce hard against the tarp covering the luggage area at the back of the carriage. I thought it odd if he should have nothing there." He watched the commander's face, at first, a look of disgust crossing it. But then, the commander's face changed to an evil leer as something close to a smile touched his eyes.

"What time was this? Early this morning, you say? And the papers were in order?"

The officer nodded in the affirmative.

A moment passed before the commander's horse began to prance and circle with the commander's rising excitement.

"We have them! We have them all! They have separated in an attempt to hide their escape. But they cannot hide from me. You. Men. You will remain here. If the Vicomte returns, detain him. My guess is he will return alone. Whatever you do, do not let his rank intimidate you and do not allow him to leave." Turning to the two officers he'd brought with him, he inclined his head in the direction of the open country. "You two will come with me. We will catch them all, one by one if we must, but we will catch them all! And you," he looked menacingly at the Dupree who had remained in the background, "get on your horse. You will come as well. Do not fail in this, any of you, or it will be all your heads!"

With that, the commander shot through the checkpoint gate, the two officers accompanying him, Dupree mounting his horse, a sense of dread filling his soul as he took off after the trio.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Christine…Christine…" Erik chanted her name over and over as he held her to his chest. Believing the worst all day, he now cherished the best as he tried to absorb her presence into his very being. He breathed in her scent, allowing her warmth to suffuse him with relief at her safety. They stood for some time, each melding to the other, until Claude cleared his throat.

"Jacques. I take it there were no problems?" Claude looked at him with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as they waited for the couple to break.

"Ah, no, no problems. The DeChagny crest works wonders."

"Yes, I presumed it might. Now we wait for my Antoinette, and hope she arrives safely as well."

Erik had spread a blanket under the shade and they sat to eat a bit of bread and cheese, though no one seemed to have much of an appetite. Their nerves were still on edge as they awaited Antoinette's arrival. Christine sat at Erik's side, her body touching his as if she tried to absorb his strength while they waited. She related how her passing through the checkpoint had gone.

"Oh, Erik! Jacques was wonderful. He was so calm. The gendarme was a nasty fellow though. He knew Le Raincy. Said he had relatives there. I thought surely he would see past the papers."

"Oui, Monsieur Erik, but the crest on the side of the carriage did its job. Once the gendarme made sure it was real, we were allowed to continue."

As much as Erik hated to admit it, the boy had been right. No one had questioned them with a title to accompany them. He wondered also if the boy would demand thanks and hoped not. He'd been in enough uncomfortable situations the last few days, and wanted no more. If this—Raoul said anything…

"Erik, do you not think, after all he's done for us, that you should thank Raoul when he arrives?" Erik looked to Christine as if she'd been reading his thoughts and a sharp laugh escaped him.

"Christine, he did all of this for you, and you alone. If anyone thanks him, it should be you, not I. And you'd best do nothing more than say the words." He watched her face as his meaning dawned on her, the anger flaring in her eyes.

"Erik, it is only you. It's always only been you and that will never change. Why do you constantly question my love for you?" She got up and began to walk away from him. "I have told you repeatedly—" but before she could finish, he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She made a feeble attempt to dislodge herself but his arms only tightened further. Laying his head against her hair, he breathed in her scent.

"Christine, I know you do. I fear losing your love."

"Then don't push me away, Erik. I love you." He released his hold on her and she turned to face him. Reaching up, she pulled his face to her and kissed him. He never heard Claude and Jacques as they moved to inspect the carriages.

----------

Raoul and Antoinette had continued their small talk as the Victoria wended its way through the city. Although they experienced no more sudden stops, Antoinette still remained close to Raoul, trying to gain some small measure of comfort from him as she worried about her father. Finally, they quieted. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize at first that Raoul had asked her a question.

"…met him, but weren't you afraid?"

"I am sorry, —Raoul. My thoughts were elsewhere." His name fell easier from her lips each time she said it though she still hesitated occasionally.

"You seem uncomfortable. Even after our kiss, Antoinette. Did you find that uncomfortable as well? It was not intended as such." She looked at him and felt the slow burn move up her face. "Monsieur! You presume too much. A simple kiss is all, nothing more."

"Is that what it was then? Simple? Nothing more?" She looked into his eyes and saw so much more than amusement. _This could be the beginning of trouble if I'm not careful. _Pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, she began again.

"Monsieur—"

"Honestly, Antoinette, I enjoyed our kiss very much. In fact so much so—" Leaning in to her he brushed her lips once more with a kiss she could not deny. For one brief moment, her body responded to him, the sensations overwhelming her, before she realized, not only was this something that could never go any farther, they were in an open carriage, on the streets of Paris, where anyone could watch their very public display. She placed her hand upon his chest and broke from the kiss, seeing the passion stirring in his eyes. She felt the beating of his heart beneath her fingers and found it impossible to remove her hand or look away.

"Raoul, I am the daughter of an innkeeper…and Christine's friend…"

At that, his gaze turned inward and she could see the pain as it crossed his face.

"I am sorry, Raoul. But I know you still love her. And I know as well, that you and I, well, it could be a very enjoyable game, but we know it could never be any more than that. Between those two things alone, I think this is not the best of ideas, do you?" She watched as he studied her face for some time before answering her.

"I have learnt many things over these past several days, Antoinette. Not the least of which is what love does and does not do. I thought Christine was mine, to pick up where we'd left off as children, but that was a childish love, not meant to sustain adults. I do love her still, but I did not treat her with an adult love, but with a selfish, self serving love and that is not a sound basis for any relationship. I am learning, Antoinette, about the many different kinds of love, and also that my life will not end because she has chosen— someone else. I can look to others, and perhaps— I don't know what will happen ten minutes from now. I do know that I am seated in a carriage, with a beautiful woman who is vibrant and alive and who holds my interest when she should not, and I would like to explore the reason why. Is that such an awful thing for you?"

Antoinette's eyes never left his, and as he talked, he drew her into them, slowly and deeply. As she leaned forward to respond, she wondered if they would be able to weather the upcoming storm.

----------

When the Victoria at last reached the checkpoint, the gendarme allowed them to pass without question after only a cursory glance at Raoul. It had been so easy, which he had counted on. They now approached the meeting place. Antoinette remained as close to his side as possible. He'd felt her relief as they'd passed through and calm infused him as well. Now, as Phillipe turned the Victoria to the copse, he felt her body stiffen.

"Don't worry. Christine has the one thing that will make her life glorious and that is Erik. I think she will not begrudge me the opportunity to live." Antoinette smiled up at him as he covered her hand with his own, but said nothing.

Christine held her breath as the Victoria entered the copse, hoping all was well. As it came through, she could see Antoinette and Raoul as they sat, touching, and noticed his hand on hers. A small smile blossomed inside and she thanked God that perhaps now, he would begin to see that he had not lost everything after all.

The men stood on the other side of the carriages, discussing the final bit of the plan while Christine and Antoinette rested on the blanket. Christine realized that she was, in fact, very hungry, now that she new they were all safe. She and Antoinette shared the bread and cheese along with a bit of wine. Christine had given Antoinette a fierce hug the moment she exited the carriage, happy to have her friend with her once again and they had walked to the blanket quietly, arm in arm. Once seated, Christine watched Antoinette's face, which looked troubled, and was sure she knew the reason.

"Antoinette, I was so worried. But after enduring that terrible wait, I see your ride was quite tolerable." She had a difficult time keeping the smile from her voice and face as she watched her friend's eyes grow wide.

"Ah, it was…unremarkable, oui." A pale blush began in her cheeks.

Christine reached out and grasped her hand. "You have nothing to worry about. I saw Raoul's attention to you as you arrived and I think it's wonderful. I wanted him to be happy and I believe that, in time, he will be. And I'm glad you are helping. Now, tell me. All of it."

Antoinette hugged Christine tightly for a moment, then began to tell her everything, beginning with Raoul's gallant attempt to save her from her dress.

"No, I won't have it. We will stay to the plan. It is, I must admit, though it pains me to do so, working and any deviation may change that." Erik was vehement in his protest.

Raoul wished to continue on with them, to Le Raincy, for safety's sake, though Erik suspected an underlying reason. A lovesick boy who had turned his attention to a new conquest was the last thing he needed to worry about.

"Erik. You don't like me; that much I know. However, my plan has worked to this point. I see nothing wrong in a slight alteration. Besides, if I do not continue on, how shall I retrieve my carriages?"

"I'll leave the one! We'll travel together in the other if we have to. I do not need you tagging along."

Raoul's eyes blazed for a moment before regaining their determined gleam.

"You had my word that I would help you in this endeavor to free yourselves. I have kept my word. I cannot be responsible for anything beyond this minute."

He saw his meaning had incensed Erik.

"Besides, how would it look if I returned tonight with two carriages instead of one?"

"You can sit here a fortnight for all that it matters. You are not coming!"

"Since it is of little difficulty to lead an empty carriage, I have no choice in the matter but to relieve you of both carriages. You shall have a long walk, Monsieur."

Claude and Jacques had been watching, first with amusement, then with trepidation as the battle between Erik and Raoul flared brighter with every word. Claude had finally moved to the women to alert them and Christine now approached the two men.

"Erik, think." She had reached him and laid her hand on his arm. She felt his flinch and knew how very angry he was but she would not allow fear to stop her. "What will it hurt if he continues on? We are free now, with nothing left to fear. You told me that. Please. Let Raoul return with the second carriage as we go on from Le Raincy. Claude and Antoinette will be able to ride with us then, when no one will recognize us. It may be better to leave the— seating arrangements as they are for now." Erik stood for several seconds, unmoving. She knew he fought with himself over what he would do and hoped her voice had persuaded him. At last, she felt him slacken and heard him sigh.

"Fine. But I will not be responsible for him." And with that he turned from her and walked away.

It was growing late in the afternoon as they departed the copse. Their journey to the first stop had started later than planned due to the argument, and Erik was not happy. He sat beside Christine in the Coupe, silent and angry. He knew she watched him but could not bring himself to look at her. He needed time to calm himself, something he'd never worried about before and now struggled with. Instead of speaking, she laid her head on his shoulder for some time, until at last, his anger dissipated and he put his arm around her, drawing her close.

"Christine…" He whispered, "I hope you are right."

----------

The commander pushed the horses to their limits hoping to catch them, but his quarry was nowhere to be seen. Now, lathered and exhausted, they were forced to walk the horses or walk themselves. _I must get them before they leave Le Raincy or they will be out of my immediate reach. I will not let this opportunity pass. And if that Vicomte gets in my way, well…_The commander's thoughts ran over each scenario, liking some and discarding others. Catching up with them on the road, finding them at camp, asleep. That was the one he liked best out of the lot. He could sneak up, eliminate the Opera Ghost first. The rest of them would be no problem once that was done. He knew from all reports who lead them. _Cut off the head and the body falls _A slow grin began to spread across his face.

The group neared a copse of trees and the hair on the back of the commander's neck began to rise. He had always relied on his senses, they had not failed him in the past and he trusted they weren't now. Turning his horse toward the trees, he was almost upon it before he noticed what looked to be an entry, recently used. He noted broken branches, still green at the break and knew it couldn't have been more than a day since that was done. He dismounted, as did his men and, leaving Dupree with the horses, led the other two into the opening beyond.

Some time passed before Dupree heard a roar from within and knew it was the commander. Tossing the reins over a branch, he made a dash for the clearing. Breaking through the brush, he saw the commander, arms flailing, charging around the clearing spewing epithets at the group that had once again, evaded him. He stood with the other two men, waiting until the commander's temper quelled.

"Get the horses, they can't be far. We will catch them and end this now!"

Dupree looked at the two men the commander had brought. He could see the understanding on their faces of the consequences, should they push the horses any farther, but neither man looked willing to speak up. Squaring his shoulders, Dupree took a step forward.

"Commander, Sir." He watched as the commander's eyes turned to him. The look they contained almost muted him, but he knew they could not go farther without the risk of killing the horses. "Sir, if we continue, we run the risk of the horses dropping dead in the road. They cannot be pushed any more today. Sir…" The commander glared at him. The eyes that Dupree still watched had taken on an edge of insanity which chilled him to the core. He watched the commander turn to the other two and awaited his fate.

"You men, get the bed rolls. We'll stay the night here and get an early start in the morning. They were here, and recently. If they go to Le Raincy, it will take them another night because of the carriages traveling time. We will get them tomorrow night when they will have become complacent, believing they are safe. We will get them, we will get them…"

Dupree listened to the commander mutter the phrase over and over, as if it had become his mantra, as they made camp for the night.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

They had left the copse of trees, one carriage at a time, spacing them a quarter hour apart. One carriage would not be noticed. Three was a different story and for once, Erik and Raoul agreed. It would also allow them, should one carriage have trouble, to reach that carriage in a minimal amount of time. Erik now rode in the Coupe with Christine. The mourning drapes would hide him allowing him to sit rather than crouch in a small area; the DeChagny crest almost insuring their anonymity. The supplies and luggage bags which had been hidden in various areas in the carriage now rode in the Brougham with Claude. Raoul and Antoinette, still in the Victoria, were the last to leave. Claude led the group as he had made the trip to Le Raincy on several occasions, and had always stopped at a farmhouse on the first night of the journey. There he sheltered in the owner's barn. He saw no reason for the owners to protest this time. An afternoon's ride would bring the travelers to a quiet safety for the night.

Christine sat under Erik's arm feeling his warmth soak in to her and taking the chill from her heart. She hoped they were safe now. She had no reason to think otherwise. Everything had gone as planned and in a day, perhaps two, she and Erik would at last be free to share a life neither thought possible at one time.

"Erik? You are very quiet, my love. What troubles you? I thought you said, once out of Paris, we would be safer."

"I did, didn't I? It just seems to me, Christine, that it was almost too easy. I wait now for trouble that may not come, but has a habit of showing when things seem to be at their best. I fear that the safety we seek will always stay one step in front of us and that we will never be truly free."

Christine sighed, placing her hand on Erik's thigh and patting as a mother comforts her young. Erik pulled her closer to him, but she could tell he thought of other matters. She placed her head in the crook of his shoulder and sat, silently praying that all would be well.

In the country, propriety lost some of its virtue, Raoul decided, and draped his arm across Antoinette's shoulders, holding her close. He watched as she took in her surroundings, commenting occasionally on something they passed.

"Have you not been this far from the city before?"

"Oh, oui, I have, but when I was very young. I came with Papa on his trips for supplies that were too dear to buy in Paris. But that was a long time ago and so much has changed."

"What made you stop?"

"Someone had to stay and run the inn after Maman died. I took her place. The tavern in front, someone rents that from us. But Papa could never trust the tenant enough to leave him in charge. Papa doesn't often trust."

"And what of me, Antoinette? Does he trust me?" Her answer for some reason, was very important to him.

"Oui, I'm sure he does. Because you kept your word and that is a very important thing to him. More than a paper contract would be. You returned as you said and have helped us. You've proved to him that he can trust you."

He hesitated a moment before asking his next question afraid that by the asking, he would break the fragile spell he found himself in.

"Your father told me a bit about Erik's entry into your lives. That you had been attacked—"

"That is true, Raoul. When I was ten, I was sent to tend my Grand Maman while my parents returned to the inn. We could not leave it unattended, you see? But, sometime late that night, my Grand Maman died. I wasn't sure she had; I was very young. I needed to get Papa, so I left her room to make my way home. It was so late and I didn't think who, or what, would be on the streets at that time of night." He watched a small shudder pass quickly through her. "I was only an alley or two from the inn when someone grabbed me from behind. His hand clasped over my mouth and suddenly, another man grabbed my ankles, lifting me from the ground. I was so scared…" Her face paled a bit and Raoul was now sorry he had asked.

"You don't have to continue. I wasn't thinking about the way it would affect you to speak of it, it seemed so long ago."

"Oui, it was a long time ago. But some things never leave us. We must find the strength to push those memories behind us and go on, non?" Taking a deep breath, she continued. "They carried me to the end of the alley. I could barely see them, but a third man who was waiting there seemed to be their leader. They dropped me to the ground. I kicked, but the man who had held my ankles now shoved my skirts up over…I fought so hard, kicking and trying to get lose, but I was only ten and it was so easy for him. The one who had grabbed me from behind— he pinned one of my shoulders to the ground with one hand, the other still covered my mouth so I bit it! Hard enough to taste his blood, and he let go. I screamed. One of them, I've no idea which, they all carried the same leer of pure evil, told me it was useless and to lie still, that I would learn to— to enjoy it."

As she spoke, Raoul watched the tears make their way down her cheeks. He pulled her close to him. "Stop, Antoinette, stop. You don't need to tell me more. Don't—"

But she seemed to want to talk, as if that would release the demons once and for all. "I passed through fear into terror and that is where my screams came from. I couldn't stop, Raoul. I just kept screaming until the man whose hand I had bitten raised his arm to strike me, to silence me. But their leader grabbed his arm, informing him that my screams only excited him more and that it was— time. Both men grasped one of my arms, pinning them to the ground. The man at my skirts had pushed them onto my bodice— and ripped off my undergarments, exposing me to their leering eyes. I struggled, but I was no match for him. He pushed my legs apart as he crawled between them, fumbling with the fastening of his breeches— Mon Dieu, Raoul, I was so— then, I heard a snap, then exclamations and the sound of running feet. The next thing I knew, my skirts were smoothed where they belonged, and a face with a mask hovered over me. I knew at once he was an angel, that he wore the disguise to hide who he really was from the world. It was Erik." She paused again as if trying to make up her mind about something. "He was so gentle. He carried me home and helped Papa to tend my scratches and Papa and Maman accepted him without question. A few nights after it happened, Erik came back, to make sure I was healing. I had not slept since the attack except in fits and starts, always waking to the same nightmare. He knelt by the side of my bed and told me something I have never told another person. Until now. The snap I heard was a man's neck breaking. Erik killed him on the spot. He hunted the other two down and killed them as well. And then he brushed the hair from my face, took my hand in his, and told me I could sleep now, that justice had been served and those men would never hurt me again. I wept, Raoul, while Erik held my hand. Wept joyous tears for the retribution meted out, almost hysterical in my happiness at their violent deaths. And then, I slept. You see, Raoul. I owe him my life. As does my Papa, because Erik saved me. Papa vowed to watch over him always. Which he has done. And that's what happened."

Raoul had held her tightly as she wept, recounting the last of her story. He handed her his handkerchief as she tried in vain to stem the flood of tears. As she told her tale, Raoul's heart had reached for her, for the pain that had been inflicted on her. While listening to Antoinette's heartbreaking tale, he came to a startling revelation. The men who had attacked Antoinette were the real monsters. Not Erik.

----------------------------

Claude arrived at the farm first and made arrangements with the owners. The travelers could hide the carriages behind the barn and sleep there. Though the day had been balmy, dusk brought a chill to the air, but they felt sheltered enough in the drafty structure to be comfortable. The men slept surrounding the girls, Raoul on one side by Antoinette, Erik on the other next to Christine. Claude at their heads, Jacques at their feet while Phillipe took first watch. When three hours had passed, Phillip came back to wake Erik. But sometime during the night, Christine had crawled to Erik inserting herself under his arm, and now slept with her head in the hollow of his shoulder and her arm across his chest. Phillipe hadn't the heart to wake him and turned back to the door when he heard Erik whisper his name. He watched as Erik extricated himself from Christine's grasp. Once free of her, he rose and watched as she rolled to her other side moving close to Antoinette in her search for warmth, never waking.

"Phillipe, it is my turn on watch. You need sleep as well as the rest of us. Go, sleep the rest of the night. I will alert you if anything happens."

Phillipe stood in front of Erik, still somewhat awed by the man who had struck such fear in all who heard mention of the Opera Ghost. What he saw was not a ghost, but a man who had taken on the responsibility for six lives beside his own, and who was doing his best to protect them all. He nodded at Erik, handed him the rifle and took his blanket to where Erik had been, though at a more discreet distance. Erik gave him a slight smile, then went to the door taking the stool.

Though it was supposed to be a three hour watch, Erik sat the night, watching and thinking. It had been several days since he'd been alone, and he drew the night around himself, like a cloak and asked himself how he had come to be in charge of so many when it seemed over the past several days, he was barely in charge of himself. This was not what he had planned. Christine, yes. He wanted her to be his responsibility. In a way, she always had been. But the rest of them. He hadn't planned on the rest of them at all. Especially that boy. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Raoul, was also his responsibility, Christine may have asked for Raoul's help, but he had accepted it and now, like it or not, Raoul was a part of their flight.

So lost was he in his thoughts, he didn't hear the footstep behind him until Christine was close enough to put her hand on his shoulder. He stood and turned in one smooth movement, rifle coming up to the ready before he realized who stood behind him. Christine's eyes grew wide with fear and surprise as Erik's blazing glare caught her face and softened almost immediately.

"Erik? I'm…I startled you."

"Only you, Christine, could catch me unawares. But you must not come upon me like that again."

"I'm sorry. I saw you sitting here and— it's past the end of your watch. I wanted you to come and sleep. You are pushing yourself too hard and will make yourself sick if you are past tired all the time. Come, it's time for rest." She gently pushed the rifle down and took his arm to lead him from the doorway. Instead, he leaned the rifle against the jamb and returned to his seat. He pulled her to his lap, nestling her against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her. They sat for some time in silence, enjoying the warmth of each other and the sounds of the night. Finally, Christine shifted to look into his face.

"Erik, you are more troubled than I have ever seen you. What is it? So far, the plan has worked just as you thought."

With a sigh, he pushed his cheek against her hair, taking in the slight scent of roses and freshness. "I am troubled, as I am in a position I never in my life expected to experience. Holding six lives in my hands to— depending on me, Christine! You, yes, I expected, had things gone as planned the night of Don Juan, that you would be my responsibility forever, but this— nothing like this ever entered my mind."

He knew the night of Don Juan was better left in the past, but Erik had vowed that he would be honest with her in everything and this was a part of it all. He watched as her hand came up to caress the perfect side of his face.

"Erik, these are people that have considered you their responsibility for a long time. Though the roles are reversed, I don't believe you would ever have left them to the gendarme should your secret be exposed. No matter what you may think of yourself, I know the man inside. He has been given an opportunity to reveal himself."

Erik hmphed at Christine, shaking his head. "I may have done that regardless for Claude and Antoinette, but— Raoul insinuated himself into this mess the moment he refused to turn back. I cannot be held responsible for him, though it weighs heavily upon me to know that I already am."

"If you are, Erik, it is only because you accept the burden for him. He did not place it upon your shoulders. Besides," she stopped for a moment and a smile touched the corners of her lips, "I think he would have found a way to follow, regardless."

"Why is that? And is he so unwilling to see that he has—," Christine put her fingers to his lips, shushing him.

"Shhh, Erik, don't raise your voice like that. You'll wake everyone. I only meant to say, do you not see the way he watches Antoinette?"

"And what does that have to do with anything?" He was getting nowhere with this conversation now other than frustrated.

"I think my love, Raoul's acceptance and healing began when he and Antoinette were in the Victoria earlier today."

"Christine. Stop being so cryptic. If you know something, tell me. I am too tired and too filled with other worries to have a puzzle to unravel, besides."

He watched her smirk and shake her head.

"Erik. For a man whose intellect is beyond genius, you are not very conversant about some things, are you?" She moved to kiss him then, and he forgot for the moment, anything other than her warm lips against his own. He hadn't dared to hold her close for the past day or two, for fear his control would slip. She would have none of his control now however, her arms surrounded his neck, her hands played with his hair. As her tongue gently questioned his mouth, he lost what little reserve he had left, opening himself to her and aching to pull her into himself. As their passion grew, he ran his hands down her sides, resting them on her waist. He broke the kiss, only to rain smaller kisses across her jaw, moving down her neck toward her bodice. Her neck arched and a soft mmmm escaped her lips before a noise behind them caused Erik to jump to his feet, dislodging Christine, who slid to the ground. With rifle in hand, he glared at Claude, who stood before him.

"Well, Claude?" he barked, disturbing the others, though none woke. "What is it?"

"Erik, I only thought perhaps I should take the watch for awhile. I think some…rest is in order for you."

Erik stared at Claude for a moment, until he saw the twinkle appear once again in the man's eyes. Turning to help Christine from the ground, he smiled at her in apology and brushed at her skirts to regain his composure before facing Claude again. He noticed Christine as she looked from him to Claude and back again, with the same gleam in her eyes.

"Yes, Claude, perhaps I have spent too much time here tonight. It could be very bad for my health."

Erik shoved the gun into Claude's outstretched hand before stalking back to the others, still asleep. Smiling at Claude, Christine crept quietly after Erik and waited until he had reposed on his blanket, arms behind his head, before she too lay down, close to his side, with her head on his shoulder.

"Christine, I do not appreciate being made sport of. And why do you speak in riddles?" He whispered fiercely at her. Wrapping her arm across his chest, she snuggled deeper into his shoulder.

"Erik, I think Raoul has found a new focus for his attention. Perhaps, if you are willing to see this, you will think better of the whole situation."

Erik had not paid close attention to the exchanges between Raoul and Antoinette. He had dismissed the boy as a necessary evil, one that he must tolerate and the less he noticed him, the better. Considering Christine's words, he looked back over the day's events and realized that not once had the boy given him the slightest trouble. Raoul had been too caught up in Antoinette to think about anything else.

"Does this upset you, Christine?"

"No, my love, I think it's wonderful."

A smile spread across Erik's face as he put his arm around Christine, drawing her close.

--------------------------------------

The commander had been awake for several hours, listening to the men surrounding him as their bodies became musical instruments. The noises they made, the snoring, the grunting and the ground itself kept him awake, full of rocks and bumps though he had made the men sweep it clean. It was enough to drive him mad. And through it all, his pursuit and capture of the Opera Ghost played in the back of his mind. The more he turned the problem over, the more he realized that a favorable outcome, regardless if the man was alive or dead when brought in, could even mean a position of prominence with the monarchy. Oh yes, he thought, this could be the biggest thing to ever happen to him. His glories had grown from a simple promotion to a position of absolute power. And if anyone else had to die in the process, so be it. He would have his triumph.

Dupree lay on the ground at the other side of their campsite. He didn't want to be there and felt apprehensive about it since they rode out of the city. If there had been anything else he could have done to keep from going, he would have. He had tried to stay in the background when they had reached the checkpoint but it proved futile. When the commander gave the order, he followed, though he didn't want to. But to disobey a direct order was tantamount to cutting his own throat and his sense of self preservation was too strong for that. He would follow his commander as far as he could. But, he was a man of honor, unlike most of the gendarme in the corps and wondered if it came down to it, would he be able to remain one.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

They rose early in the morning, sharing a breakfast of biscuits and hot tea provided by the mistress of the farm. Erik had given Claude a handful of coins to pass on to the owner of the farm in exchange for the shelter they provided. They had not expected breakfast but welcomed it. Erik took the opportunity to watch Raoul as he interacted with Antoinette. It seemed that Raoul had taken it upon himself to watch over Antoinette and to Erik's way of thinking, if Raoul was willing to watch over someone else, that released him from any responsibility concerning the boy. Antoinette however, was still very much under Erik's charge so he kept a wary eye on the pair. He didn't need Antoinette getting hurt, emotionally or otherwise. Christine sat next to him, the same slight smile on her face she'd worn the night before. She also took in Raoul and Antoinette, but Erik could tell she seemed delighted with the prospect. Sighing, he set the remains of his breakfast aside and stood, ready to face what he hoped would be their last day of running.

"We must prepare to leave. Again, we must space ourselves. People returning to the city would probably hear of our escape and would remember a large group traveling together." Claude nodded and rose along with Jacques and Phillipe, accepting Erik's instructions without question. Raoul looked up from his conversation with Antoinette.

"Surely we can afford a bit of risk now. We're a day out of the city. By the time anyone gets back to Paris and puts everything together, we will be far enough away— "

"We, Raoul? What 'we'? You're no longer required to accompany us. Just leave us one carriage and we'll be fine." He watched Raoul's face, waiting for the telltale sign he was sure was coming, and was handsomely rewarded. Raoul looked aghast at Erik, his glance quickly shifting to Antoinette before rounding back on Erik, eyes ablaze. Though he gave no outward sign, Erik was pleased with Raoul's reaction. Christine had been correct and it gave Erik a small measure of triumph. Perhaps Raoul's focus had shifted after all.

"Erik, I already told you— "

"Yes, you did, Raoul. And I told you, we can get along without your help now."

"Then I shall remove my carriages from your hands and you will be forced to find alternate transportation."

"Well, Vicomte—" But before he could go farther, he felt Christine's hand upon his arm. He looked to her and saw her look of disdain. Placing his hand over hers, he smiled mischievously at her and then turned back to Raoul. "I suppose, for the sake of everyone else, I can allow you to continue with us…for now." Raoul glared at him and he returned it with a sly smile. He caught Antoinette's look of amusement from the corner of his eye and could no longer contain his smirk. "All right, Antoinette, I'll stop. It's just so simple…" Raoul looked between Antoinette and him, then to Christine and back to Antoinette and realized he'd been made sport of. Rising from the ground, he walked out of the barn in a huff, leaving them all staring after him.

"Erik, you can be impossible!" Antoinette chided him as she went off after Raoul.

"She's right, but then, you know that, don't you?" He looked at Christine and saw the mirth in her own eyes. "It is just so easy to provoke him, Christine. So easy."

Antoinette found him out by the Victoria, yanking on straps and pushing on things. She approached him cautiously. When she was within speaking distance, she stopped to take in this Vicomte, this man, who was so busy beating up their transportation. She wondered what angered him more. Being made sport of by Erik, or being made sport of in front of her, or Christine. She hoped it was his concern for her opinion that drove him to his restless ministrations.

"Raoul, it's Erik's way. He baits you to see your reaction."

"Well, I don't appreciate it, Antoinette. I'm a Vicomte, for God's sake! How dare he?" He turned his back on her and continued pushing here and there. She walked to him and placed her hand on his back.

"Raoul, it doesn't change my opinion of you, if that's your concern." She watched as he turned to her, a look of surprise on his face. For a moment, she thought he would laugh at her and wondered what she was thinking to make her say that. He was right, after all. Why should her opinion of a Vicomte matter at all? She held her breath as he reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers. Instead of releasing her, he pulled her to him wrapping his arms around her and kissing her soundly.

----------------------------------------------

Christine rested her head on Erik's shoulder, thinking about their life to come. He promised they would visit the little church in Le Raincy first thing and speak to the priest about a small marriage ceremony. Claude and Antoinette could be their witnesses, that was not a problem. The problem was what the priest would think when he saw Erik. Would he overlook the mask? Or would he refuse to marry them? She was well aware how much this would cost Erik. His life had been sheltered for so long now, contact with the outside world all but null except for those times when he would visit with Claude for items he needed. This, this would cost him dearly, to face a priest. Would the man be kind, or would he view Erik as the monster everyone thought his mask to make him? She prayed it was the former, she couldn't imagine what the latter would do to him. She felt Erik hug her tighter and wondered if he shared her thoughts.

"Christine, something troubles you now. Is it Raoul?" She could see the fear in his eyes and knew, until they were married, he would carry that bit of uncertainty with him.

"No, my love. I am happy for him. Truly I am. I think, knowing Antoinette's personality, she will be exactly what he needs. And who knows? No, I am concerned about the church in Le Raincy."

"What is there to be concerned with? It is a church, there will be a priest. I can ask him to perform our ceremony. Then we will be one and nothing will ever break that bond."

"The bond has been set for some time, my love and will never break. That is not what troubles me. I am concerned that— Oh, Erik, what if the priest won't marry us? What if—"

"Christine. Claude knows this priest well and informs me that he is a just and honest man who sees things as they really are. He will see how much I love you and there will be no other questions. I am certain of that."

She could see the conviction he attempted to portray, but could also hear the underlying tension in his words and knew, he too worried as to how he would be received by the priest. She placed her hand on his chest and could feel his heartbeat through her fingertips. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek, before she lay her head upon his shoulder again.

"I trust you to be right, Erik." And with that, they fell into a comfortable silence.

----------------------------------

The commander had risen at first light, shouting orders at his sleeping men. With no time to waste, they must make haste or lose the group to any one of a dozen side roads. Though the name Le Raincy had come up, the commander had no guarantee that they were, in fact, going there at all. The men had brought nothing to eat with them and when they asked if they could hunt some breakfast, the commander glared at them, as if it was the stupidest question asked of him yet.

"You don't need food! We'll stop later, as soon as I know we've caught their trail. If they are heading for Le Raincy, then we can commandeer provisions from one of the farms along the way. Right now, we have no time for anything but the hunt of my prey."

The three men exchanged a wary glance at the way the commander had shouted of 'his prey'. Dupree listened as one of the gendarme mumbled under his breath that the 'prey' in question was probably long gone and he'd rather be home in bed with his wife than on a fool's errand. Thankfully, the commander was out of earshot and the man's remark went unheard. As maniacal as the commander had become, Dupree was afraid he would perceive the comment as treason. Dupree decided bringing up the rear of their little search party was the wisest move he would make that day.

They had traveled for half the day when they came upon a small farmhouse. The water in their standard canteens had run out hours before and they still had not eaten. The commander took a good look at the farm and decided this was as good a place as any to stop. His men needed nourishment and so did he. Dismounting, he handed the reins to one of the men and went to the door, pounding on it with a closed fist. He could hear nothing on the other side and raised his fist once again when the door cracked open and a woman's face, weathered and old peered out at him.

"Madame, I am with the Paris police. We are in search of a group who left the city illegally. We have been traveling since yesterday and need refreshment. The police will reimburse you, but we need food now." He watched her eyes as he'd mentioned the Vicomte and his group. It seemed as if she had drawn a shade over them, putting him on his guard.

"Wait here, monsieur, and I will bring bread and cheese to you."

"And do you have someplace we can fill our canteens?"

"Oui, monsieur, around the side of the house is a cistern. You can fill them there."

The commander told one of the men to gather the canteens and go around to fill them while he scouted around the rest of the house. He saw a large barn some distance from the house and he headed in that direction when he heard a man call out.

"Monsieur. We have your food, and I have brought a bottle of wine as well. Please sit here and eat. We can bring more if this is not sufficient."

The commander stopped, though his instinct told him he should continue. But his stomach complained and so he turned back to the front of the house, to eat his fill along with his men.

He watched the old man flit around them as they ate, looking somewhat nervous, and began to wonder why. While the old man was occupied with one of the men, he spoke to Dupree in a whisper, telling him to distract the old man, while he stepped around the back of the house. He didn't care for the look on Dupree's face, but knew the man would do his job. Rising and brushing his pant legs off, he ambled toward the barn. The farmer immediately began to follow asking if he could do any more for the commander. Dupree must have known this was his cue as he too rose, asking the farmer for some more wine and bread. The commander watched as the farmer looked from one to the other, before entering the house. The commander took his opportunity and hurried to the barn, looking for sign of anything that might show the group had been there. He always trusted his instinct and this time was no different. The ground in front of the barn door had been swept. Following the marks to the edge of the property, he finally found what he was looking for. Wheel marks. Three different distinct patterns leading in the direction of Le Raincy. He had them now. Returning to the house, he could see one of his men holding on to the old man as the old man struggled to get free.

"How many were there and where were they heading?" the commander shouted at the man, who had now been joined by his wife. "Answer me! I asked you a question. Or shall I use force to get what I want?" At this, the woman's face blanched white and Dupree felt very sorry for her. They were old, not in the best of health he could tell, and he knew well the commander's ruthless method of extracting the information he desired. Dupree could not help the couple, so he stood in the background, hoping the commander would not include him in anything horrible. None of this sat well with him and he did not want to have to choose. As he watched, the commander became angrier and angrier until his face flamed red and his eye bulged. He lifted his hand to strike the old woman when one of the gendarmes stepped in and grasped the commander's arm.

"Sir, excuse me, but beating them will not give you the answers you seek." The commander glared at the gendarme, his mouth hanging open, his face mottled. Dupree held his breath, waiting for the storm to explode. Surprisingly, the commander removed his arm from the officer's grasp, smoothed the front of his uniform and walked to his horse. Untying the reins, he mounted and turned to the group in front of him.

"You— ", he said to the officer who had stopped him, "You will stay here and get any information you can from these two. You, will stay as well." This was said to the other officer. This did not bode well at all and Dupree had a good idea where this was going.

"I know they went through here. I am quite certain they are on the way to Le Raincy after all. I will catch them. Dupree, you will ride with me. You two, any information you gain you bring to me at once. Tie them and leave them here when you follow. I shall expect you to catch us shortly." With that he turned his horse and started toward Le Raincy. Dupree heaved a great sigh as he mounted his own steed, turning his head to follow the commander, hoping the outcome would not result in someone's death. His own.

---------------------------------

They made Le Raincy in good time. Erik's carriage arrived at the outskirts of town just as dusk slipped over the town. Within a half hour, the group would converge at the local inn. He had instructed Claude to find suitable lodging there, and then to fetch dinner and the priest, in that order. He would not put off one more minute, what he'd waited a lifetime to do. Fortunately, the innkeeper's wife offered a decent menu. They ordered dinner and went to their respective rooms to refresh themselves before eating.

Erik sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. Small though clean, it was not what he had envisioned for his wedding night with Christine. A simple four poster with patchwork quilts, an armoire, a washstand with ewer and basin. Not the opulence of his former home. Not the beautiful mahogany bed he had built, not the velvet quilts, the Aubusson rugs that covered his floors. Only one candle on the little table next to the bed. But he knew the room did not matter and hoped by this time tomorrow night, they would share this bed in a union he knew would last a lifetime. He spent a moment with his thoughts before rising and going to the washstand. As he poured water into the basin, he looked up, catching his reflection in the mirror that hung above it. He set the ewer to the side and, raising his right hand, touched the mask that had been so much a part of him for most of his life. Gently, he reached underneath the edge and removed it, still watching his reflection, trying to imagine what Christine really saw when she looked upon him. He touched the marred skin, the drooping eye, and his half bald scalp always hidden underneath a mask that had shielded not the world from him, but in reality, shielded him from the world and its injustices. Now, he would face that world with new strength provided by Christine's love and unconditional acceptance. Scooping the cool water into his palms, he splashed his face, cleaning as best he could. He held the towel against his face for some time, making sure the skin was completely dry before donning his mask once again. Raising it to his face he thought, _Another day or two my friend, and our time together will be almost non-existent. _As he pressed the mask to his face, he heard a knock on the door.

"Erik." It was Claude's voice on the other side. "Dinner is ready. And I have news." But Erik couldn't tell from Claude's statement if it was welcomed news or a death knell.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Erik threw the door open to find Claude standing before it, a great grin on his face.

"Father Ignacio will be more than happy to perform the marriage service, Erik. Tomorrow morning. He would though, like to speak with you both, tonight if possible. He also asked if you have a marriage license. Do you?"

Erik looked as if he'd been slapped. _Marriage license? _

"I never thought to—"

"Not to worry. Father Ignacio says he can grant special dispensation under certain circumstances. I am to go to him after dinner and let him know if you both can attend him at the church tonight."

"Yes, Claude. Please, go to him now, and tell him we will be there. But do not tarry lest you miss your dinner as well." He watched as Claude nodded his understanding, smiled and hurried off. It would take no time at all for him to reach the priest and return for his dinner. Le Raincy proper did not boast a sprawling community, all the buildings were within shouting distance of each other. Erik closed the door and returned to the bed, opening the valise he'd brought upstairs with him. Donning a clean shirt, he went in search of his beloved Christine, his heart filled with joy.

Christine motioned for Antoinette to sit beside her on the bed. Antoinette had seemed somewhat subdued since arriving at the inn and Christine was concerned. She was fairly certain she knew the reason and wished to set Antoinette's mind at ease.

"Antoinette, we have arrived safely. What should trouble you so now?" Antoinette sat with her hands in her lap, looking down at them as they worked her skirt into a pleat over and over. Christine reached out to her, encouraging her to look up and speak her mind. Stalling but a moment longer, Antoinette finally brought her troubled gaze to Christine's eyes.

"I am afraid. Afraid that I have gotten involved in something that can only end badly."

"What have you done?"

"I— well, we…I have come to care for Raoul, Christine! It just…happened and I care, very much. And I shouldn't because it could never be. What would a Vicomte want with someone like me? I am nothing in his world. Yet he treats me as if I am more than my station allows. And it makes me happy when he— when he kisses me!" Antoinette blushed as her words continued to pour forth. "But I have no right to feel this way because nothing will ever come of it, I know that. He just makes me feel—" She looked so remorseful, so worried, it pulled hard at Christine to see her like this.

"Antoinette, I am happy for you. And for Raoul. I was so afraid he would, well, it doesn't matter now. He has been able to feel again, for someone else. I am so happy that it is you! I could not have hoped for a better match for him. Your personality suits him and he comes alive again when he is around you. I never wanted to see his heart broken." The two women stared at each other in understanding. Both knew what had transpired, past and present. Both knew that perhaps now, those ghosts could be laid to rest.

Christine continued in a strong voice. "It was broken, by me. Now, I think it will begin to mend. And it is because of you. Who is to say what will happen a week, or a month from now? He was willing to present me to his society, Antoinette. Why wouldn't he be willing to do the same for you if he comes to care for you enough?" She wrapped her arms around the other girl. For a moment, Antoinette sat unmoving until tentatively, she hugged Christine in return.

"Truly? Do you think that could ever be? That he could care for someone like me?" Christine began to laugh. Separating from Antoinette, she smiled, grasping one of Antoinette's hands in her own.

"Someone like you? Someone who is kind and charming? If God can give me the happiness I have in Erik and give him the strength to allow me to love him, who is to say what He will do for you? It does not matter now. Enjoy the man God has set in your path and wait upon His answers. Now," she leaned close to Antoinette, her eyes alight with mischief. "Tell me all about it!"

"…and then, when I caught up with him at the Victoria, I told him it didn't matter to me, what Erik did. I don't know why I told him that, Christine, but I needed to tell him, and he seemed to need to hear it because he kissed me. Kissed me thoroughly! Oh, it was like falling off a cliff for me, but instead of plummeting to the ground, Christine, I felt as if I could open my arms and soar away." She gave a wistful smile and a deep sigh. She had started at the beginning, re-telling from the moment Raoul had broken into her room at the inn. Christine listened attentively, thrilled in the knowledge that Raoul would be able to love again. The part of her heart that had hurt so, for the childhood friend she loved, began to mend itself with this revelation. Antoinette began to say something else when a knock sounded on the door.

"Christine, I have news for you." Her heart skipped a beat at the voice. Rising, she opened the door, only to be engulfed in Erik's embrace as he lifted her off her feet.

"The priest says yes, Christine. He will perform the service for us. Oh, Christine…it is only a matter of hours now— "

"Hours, Erik? Why hours? Why not tonight?"

"He wishes to speak with us after dinner, at the church. He told Claude the ceremony would be tomorrow morning. I have no desire to wait either, but I can, if I must. A small inconvenience of a few hours for an entire lifetime with you, my love. I can wait." Leaning toward her, he kissed her, hard, with all of the passion and joy that he felt. She surrendered to him, allowing his ardor to carry her along, until she heard a soft cough behind her. Remembering Antoinette, she raised her hand and lay it on Erik's cheek as she pulled away from him.

"Erik, if you are willing to wait, then I can as well. What time do we see the priest?"

"We go sometime after supper. Claude has gone to him to find the time he wishes to meet with us. In the meantime, let us go down to supper. You both need to replenish your strength."

Christine looked at Erik's face, her brows drawn together in concern.

"You don't mind being seen?"

He looked taken aback by her question and she could see first the anger, then the understanding cross his face.

"No, Christine. We are the only guests at this time. And Claude has assured me he has the landlord's complete understanding of the situation at hand. We will be fine. Come, both of you."

Christine turned back to Antoinette noting the look of hesitation on her friend's face and the slight shake of her head.

"Erik, I shall go down with you now. I think Antoinette would like a moment alone."

He looked from one to the other, shrugged his shoulders and, taking Christine's hand in his, turned to exit the room. Christine turned, gave Antoinette a knowing wink and followed Erik out the door, closing it behind her.

Raoul paced in his room, restless and nervous. Antoinette was beneath his station, that much was clear. But she had a spirit about her that intrigued him and her touch brought forth feelings he thought had died. Pretty, outspoken, courageous, she drew him to her like a moth to flame though he knew nothing could possibly come from a relationship with her. Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it enjoying the pleasant diversion she offered in the meantime. It was so easy though to think of her as more…

Antoinette heard a soft knock on the door. Rising from the bed, she straightened her skirts, patted her hair and moved her braid from in front of her shoulder to hang down her back. She was as nervous as a girl accepting her first suitor. Opening the door, she looked upon Raoul, who carried his own nervous smile. They stood in silence for a moment, neither moving toward the other, until he held out his hand to her. Taking it, she gave him a brilliant smile and quit the room.

--------------------------------------

Supper was a subdued affair. Claude had returned to give Erik the news that the priest would see them within the hour. The level of excitement in the room had increased, though they spoke only in quiet tones. Now, in just a short while, Erik and Christine would be wed and they could continue on their journey.

"But Erik, if we're to be married in the morning, that means we will be leaving right after the service. And that means—"

"Not to worry, my love. We don't have to leave until later in the day I would think. We've arrived here safely. I would expect any trouble would have happened by now. A few hours delay tomorrow will not hurt." He knew she thought of their wedding bed, as did he, and the small thrill that raced through him set his heart beating rapidly. He watched as a slight flush rose on her cheeks and knew he was not wrong. When he broke his gaze, he looked up to find all eyes were on him and Christine, most with delighted smiles or knowing looks, one that struggled for some semblance of control. He had to admit, over these past few days, he had come to feel sorry for the boy and what he must be feeling having to watch Christine with him. But he hoped Antoinette would take Raoul's mind off the impending wedding.

"Erik, do you really think we're safe now?" This was from Antoinette, who it was apparent, was trying to break the moment and turn the conversation away from the personal turn it had taken.

"I think we may never truly be safe, but we are as safe as possible for the time being, Antoinette."

A hush fell over the table as everyone continued to eat their meal.

--------------------------------------------

The commander grew more agitated as they neared Le Raincy. Nestled in a small valley, the lights from a few outlying farms were barely discernable and he knew they were close. Another hour of travel, perhaps a bit more, would bring him to the city and the recognition he so deserved. He would have this man, this _Ghost_, one way or another. Dead, he had decided, would be the preferable condition. Much easier to transport someone who gave no fight at all. And a brief explanation would suffice as to why he had been killed. He knew Dupree would say nothing if he valued his position. Perhaps he would reward the man with a small promotion. He would have to decide that when the time came. However, once the commander fell under the king's umbrella of power, someone like Dupree would no longer warrant the smallest glance. Turning in his saddle, he saw Dupree, several meters behind him, head down and slumped.

"Hurry up, man. We don't have much farther before I will hold the prize I seek in the palm of my hand." Dupree's head came up at his words. Even at this distance he saw an odd expression pass Dupree's face before the man spurred his horse forward to catch up with the commander.

-----------------------------

Raoul and Antoinette had excused themselves from the table after supper to walk in the night air. Claude had taken Erik and Christine to the church, and returned to the inn for a game of cards with Jacques, Phillipe and the inn keeper. Now, Erik and Christine sat in the front pew, before a small man, who wore the vestments of the priesthood and a jovial smile that clashed with his somber attire. He had been a bit surprised with his first glance at Erik. Though he had been warned what to expect, Erik feared his presence had been much more than the priest had expected. But he had quickly recovered and now seemed at ease with the intimidating masked man.

"Oui now, Monsieur— Debussy is it? And Mademoiselle Daaé? Claude tells me you wish to be married. And quickly. Is there a reason for the rush?" Erik watched the smile change to concern and understood what the man was thinking.

"The only reason, Father, is that we have waited too long and we are on our way to our new home. I should like Christine to enter it as my wife." A look of relief passed the priest's face for a moment before the concern returned.

"Then there is but one problem, my son. I cannot perform the ceremony if you are not of the faith."

"But Father," Christine looked to the priest imploring him. "It is only because he is not versed in it. He has led a— sheltered existence." She reached to Erik, placing her hand on his. "He is more than willing to learn, and I will teach him. Please, Father, don't let that be the only reason." Tilting her chin up, she looked at the priest with determination. "We will find a magistrate if you will not marry us!"

Erik gaped at her, surprised at Christine's vehemence but was also awed at the depth of her emotion for him. The priest looked disconcertedly at them both and he thought he could see the man's mind churning behind the calm façade. Finally, a grin once again appeared on Father Ignacio's face.

"I shall draw up the necessary papers granting you special permission. I will explain in the papers the reason for your lack of pronouncement in the faith and all should be well. However," He paused, giving them both a stern look, "I will expect the matter to be taken care of when you reach your new home. If you will wait here, I will only be a few moments. You will need to sign them and return them to me, along with the signatures of two witnesses. You may bring the papers when you return in the morning." Nodding at them both, he disappeared through a side door, into what Erik decided must be Father Ignacio's study.

Christine wrapped her arm through his and leaned against him, taking his hand in both of hers. Erik could feel her contentment.

"A magistrate, my love? You are determined, aren't you?" He felt the vibration of her ummm against him as he sat with her, awaiting the priest's return.

--------------------------------------

The commander paced back and forth, his ire rising with each turn. Dupree had dismounted earlier, telling the commander that his horse had pulled up lame and needed to be checked. He now stood with his back to the commander, the horse's front hoof in his hand while he played at removing a stone from it. He had no desire to proceed any farther. His gut instinct told him this would end very badly for someone— most likely himself. Lagging behind the commander had not worked and he could think of no other ploy. He knew the moment he stopped that it would not work for long. But any delay was better than rushing headlong into a disaster. He was certain now that the commander had quite lost his mind and felt as if he were being led into hell. It was not a place, given a choice that he had any desire to visit. After a half hour of fussing over his horse, he turned to the commander.

"Perhaps it would be better if I walked him sir. Wouldn't want him to be permanently lame."

"BAH!" the commander barked. "Then you can walk him. I will proceed without you. You will, however, waste no time. I need your help. And you better arrive, Dupree, or the consequences will be severe."

Dupree saw the look in the commander's eyes and nodded at him, knowing it was better to keep his mouth shut for fear of being shot where he stood. After a short pause, the commander hoisted himself in the saddle and headed for Le Raincy.

_God, help us all_ Dupree thought, as he began walking after a madman.

---------------------------------------------

"Father Ignacio, please. I don't wish to wait until morning. Besides, we still have a long way to travel and it would be much better if we could leave at first light."

Father Ignacio had returned with the papers in hand. Christine had asked him again if the ceremony could not be performed this night. He looked into her face as she sat on the pew, so close to M Debussy that she seemed an extension of him. He could see the love she held for the man clearly written on her face. She looked so hopeful as she glanced at her beloved and back to him. _Perhaps…it's really not that late. A quarter hour, half at the most, everyone could be here. There's really no reason to wait…_

"All right, my dear. I can see in your eyes your adoration for your betrothed. If you can gather your witnesses quickly, say a quarter hour, I will perform the ceremony tonight."

Christine jumped up, clasping the priest's hand in hers and kissing it, the smile on her face lighting the room.

"Excuse me, Father. Could we make it half an hour? There is something I need to attend to." Erik had risen behind Christine and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes questioning him, but did not speak. Instead she looked back to Father Ignacio, thanked him again and, when the priest acquiesced to Erik's request, followed Erik out of the church.

"Erik? What is it?"

Pulling her to him he whispered into her curls. "Let us return to the inn and you shall see." With that, he released her but took her hand and together, they walked back to prepare.

--------------------------------------------

When they returned, the men still played their card game in one corner of the great room. On a sofa pulled close to the fireplace Antoinette and Raoul sat, deep in conversation. Even Erik could now see the connection they shared and he hesitated to interrupt them. But he needed Antoinette's help. He sent Christine ahead to her room and approached the couple until he was standing directly behind the sofa.

"Antoinette." She emitted a small squeak that made him smile as she turned furious eyes on him.

"Erik! Some day, you will cause someone's heart to stop if you continue to scare people half to death!" Raoul had jumped as well at the sound of Erik's voice and now faced him, a strange mix of anger and fear on his countenance. Before Raoul could speak however, Erik continued.

"I must interrupt your discussion as I need your assistance in something, and I need it now." He watched as she searched his face, brows together in concentration. Finally, she rose from the sofa and, touching Raoul's arm in reassurance, excused herself to follow Erik up the stairs.

Erik walked to one of several pieces of luggage that sat on the floor by the foot of his bed. Setting it on the quilt, he opened it. Antoinette saw a large box, wrapped with a huge red bow. As he took it out of the box, she waited as he lovingly caressed the box for a moment, before handing it to her. Under the bow was a small card.

"Please take this to Christine. See that she opens the card first. And tell her…"

Antoinette could see that he found it difficult to continue. Clutching the box, she smiled softly at him and left the room.

She knocked on the door with her foot and heard Christine bid her enter. Because the box was cumbersome, and the bow gorgeous, she did not want to tuck the box under her arm and so, knocked once more. Christine opened it but had turned from it and gone back to the floor mirror, inspecting the dress she wore. It was a beautiful pale pink, with a full sweeping skirt and lace at the bodice and sleeves.

"Antoinette, I am so glad it is you. Can you button my dress? I only brought two, the rest were packed to be sent for later. I think this will do as my wedding dress, don't you?" She began to twirl in front of the mirror and stopped dead at the sight of Antoinette in the doorway, box in hand.

"Erik sent this for you. He would like you to read the card before you open it." She moved into the room and set the box on the bed. Christine sat next to the box, a shocked expression on her face. She laid her hand on the box, and looked to Antoinette.

"Go ahead. Open the card. I don't think there's anything in there to bite you. It didn't seem alive as I carried it." Antoinette's attempt at levity brought a smile to Christine's face. Pulling the card from the box, she opened it with trembling fingers.

_My beloved,_

_I have wronged you in many ways. I can never take those memories back, but I can give you new ones to replace them. You wore a wedding dress for me once before, on a night that seems like a lifetime ago. We have a lifetime ahead of us now. My wish is this memory will be the one you hold in your heart and treasure. I have no rose to give you, but the bow I hope will stand in its place, for now._

_You are my life. I love you._

_Erik_

Christine stared at the box as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She reached slowly for the bow, removing it lovingly. She held it close for a moment,then set it aside. Her hands shook as she broke the seal on the box and lifted the lid. Under layers of tissue lay a dress. Her dress. The dress she had worn the night she realized she could never live without Erik. The dress she had worn as she walked into the lake, to pledge herself to him always. The dress she feared had been destroyed beyond repair as she made her way through a dark tunnel, following a man she knew she must never leave, for she would surely die without him. Her hands grasped the bodice of the gown and she brought it to her cheek, feeling the soft silk against her skin as if it were Erik's hand which caressed her. She could no longer contain herself and began to cry, great sobs coursing through her as her joy in the moment mingled with a thousand other feelings she had kept inside for days. She barely felt Antoinette as the girl sat by her side, putting her arms around Christine and holding her close.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

All but Christine had gathered in the church. Claude entered from Father Ignacio's study after escorting Christine there and she now awaited her cue. In all of the times she had waited in the wings for her cue to walk on stage, not once had she been this nervous. Antoinette would stand for Christine as witness and Claude for Erik. Phillipe, Jacques and Raoul had been invited and now sat in the front pew. Finally, their wait would be over. They would be wed. Only Death could part them now.

Raoul had told Antoinette he would be there, but had not looked at Christine when he'd answered. She was surprised he had agreed at all, but his feelings for Antoinette became more obvious with each passing hour. She hoped he would be entranced enough with Antoinette to sit through the ceremony. He was still her friend; she considered him to be that at least and her last link to the memories she held of her father. Regardless of what had happened between them, she wanted him there. Memories of other times rushed through her head. Her mother, who she barely remembered, her father, who passed soon after, days on the beach, stories with a childhood friend. Then the opera house and Mme Giry, the angelic voice that she heard one night, in her deepest despair, pulling her back from a darkness so black, it threatened to swallow her whole. Memories of operas and parties and all of the other things that went on at the opera house, of singing lessons and that same voice, whispering in her mind as she slept. Of a single red rose, a token of love. Now, with no rose, she held the closest she had as her wedding flowers, the red bow from the box which had contained the dress she now wore. The dress she thought never to see again. The dress she'd worn as she followed the man she loved, her newfound realizations and desire torn away with each rend in the fabric. But they hadn't been torn from her. They had been mended and were beautiful, just as the dress was, just as their love was. Christine heard the priest softly announce her. Placing her hand on the door, she said goodbye to the little girl she had been and hello to the woman she knew, with Erik, she could be.

--------------------------------------

The commander had hobbled his horse and used the cover of darkness to enter the town.

He'd gone to the stable first and found all three carriages and their teams bedded down for the night. Lights could be seen at the inn, but looking in the window showed him nothing but an empty great room. There were no lights at all on the second story which meant no one was there. The only other lights visible came from the stained glass windows of the little church at the end of town. Moving as quietly as possible, he made his way in the shadows to the only other building that showed any life in it.

-------------------------------

Erik watched as she entered the church from the priest's study. His mouth already dry, he found she stole his breath as well. Though few candles glowed he saw she was as beautiful as he knew she would be. As she slowly made her way toward him, he had but one thought. Christine. No past rose up to haunt this moment, no cruelties, no chains, no regrets. His heart and eyes saw only her

"_I pledge my life to you, my love to you, my every breathing moment. And when my life is done, I'll love you still and always. You are the heart that beats within me, Christine. I love you." _

He held her hand in his as he gave himself to her, watched her face alight with love as she listened to each word as he spoke them. No other man's thoughts could ever tell her what this moment meant to him and so, he had asked Father Ignacio if he could pen a few of his own. Now he had said them, never to take them back or tear them away. The words lay between them, a promise of a lifetime of love, honor and joy. He would cherish her always. He reached into his vest pocket, taking out the ring she had returned to him one ill-fated night, when she had pledged her love to him though he'd not understood the gesture at the time. As he slipped it on her finger he heard a short intake of breath, but it wasn't Christine. They both turned to the sound, only to see Raoul, eyes fixed on the ring that had once symbolized his own love for her, face pale and devoid of emotion. Suddenly, he rose from the pew and walked out of the church, the door banging shut behind him.

-----------------------------------

Dupree found the commander's horse and had hobbled his alongside it. He made his way slowly into town but could catch no sight of the commander. Not knowing which way to go, he came into town at the far end, near the church. He was almost upon it when he heard the boom of a heavy door closing and footsteps crossing the entryway. Crouching low, he remained still, waiting for the next sound. What he heard were footsteps crunching in the gravel close to him. He had nowhere to hide, his only cover the darkness and his immobility. He saw someone approach and recognized the Vicomte. But there was a look of despair on the Vicomte's face. He looked neither right nor left, only straight ahead. Passing within striking distance of Dupree, who held his breath in anticipation of being seen, the Vicomte strode past, disappearing into a small stand of trees. Dupree counted to five before he exhaled. He knew, as insane as the commander appeared, the Vicomte would never have been allowed to escape his attention. That meant the commander wasn't in the church yet and something else occupied the Vicomte's mind. As quietly as he could, he rose on his feet again and made his way to the church. He knew that something was going on in the church by the Vicomte's demeanor but he feared for those still inside should the commander appear. Near enough to the corner now for a clear view of the front doors, he watched astonished as the commander swung the heavy door open and stepped inside the church, pistol drawn.

----------------------------------

Raoul leaned his forehead against the tree, his weight sagging against it. He had gone to the service for Antoinette, not for Christine. That and curiosity drove him to torture himself. He would have managed quite well with Antoinette by his side, someone who wanted him. But seeing the ring with which he had sworn his love to Christine was too much to bear. Unable to stand that final blow, he knew he had to escape. His mind a mass of twisting thoughts and emotions, he gave himself over to them at last, his rage belittling not for his defeat but for the loss of someone he loved as a friend but who he had pushed away with his bitterness and hate. At last he turned leaning his back against the tree seeing everything clearly for the first time in months.

--------------------------

Christine stood under Erik's intense gaze as the priest spoke the last words of the ceremony uniting them at last, as one; the final words that would declare their heart's desire to all who heard. Her heart swelled with love as Erik's lips pressed over her own, sealing their vows with an exquisite kiss. The room melted away as he deepened the kiss, drawing her into his soul. A noise sounded faint in her ears, breaking the spell. They broke apart, Christine's first thought was that Raoul had found forgiveness in his heart and had returned. What she saw made her scream in terror. All eyes turned to the back of the church where the commander of the Paris police stood, pistol drawn, an insane smile stretched across his face. Claude still stood by Erik, as Erik moved fluidly in front of Christine to shield her from the commander's glare. Jacques and Phillipe has risen from their seats but were on the same side of the church as Erik leaving the priest and Antoinette unshielded. Father Ignacio stepped forward, toward the commander, but froze at the look he saw in the man's eyes.

"Father, I think you would be safest if you returned to your study." Erik's eyes bored into the commander's as he spoke quietly to the priest in an attempt to draw the attention away from the others in the room.

"No, Father. I think you should not— and him;" the commander said as he brandished his gun toward Claude, "you will join the two other 'gentlemen' here in the front row please. And you, Mlle, will stand next to me."

Antoinette looked to Erik who hesitated a moment, then nodded at her. Her face paled but she did as requested. When she was an arm's length from the commander, his hand whipped out, closing around her forearm with such force it made her cry out. She struggled in an attempt to get lose, but his grip only tightened further, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. Erik took a step forward, but the commander brought the pistol to bear.

"I would suggest you not move again." The statement was icy cold and Erik knew the commander would not hesitate to pull the trigger.

"It would seem, _Monsieur Opera Ghost, _that I now hold the upper hand. You do realize that my delivery of you to the courts of Paris means my acceptance into the king's Sureté, do you not? However, I think I shall take you back dead. Oh, but what thought would you have of me? If I remember correctly, you threatened to kill me! Monster that you are, I was surprised that you did not. Why is that, Monsieur Phantom? Why did you not kill me when you had the chance?"

Erik had been watching the commander closely for any sign of weakness that he could exploit, and had seen many. The only thing stopping him was the fact that the pistol never wavered, nor did the man's hand ease its grip on Antoinette's arm. Erik's fear for her safety and Christine's overwhelmed him but his anger rose with the commander's every utterance. Remaining as outwardly calm as possible, he decided to play the commander's game in an attempt to draw the man's fury down on him alone. Assuming an air of indifference, he sized the commander up and down.

"Commander, I must say, I found you unworthy and a waste of my time to kill before, as I do now. However, if you should insist, I'm sure something can be arranged." Erik took a step. The commander's face burned red with his anger and for one second, the gun wavered. But he regained control of it. He moved toward Erik, dragging Antoinette in the process. She grabbed a pew with her free arm trying to halt her progress, but her strength could not match his. Erik took another step forward while the commander pulled at her.

"Let her go, Commander. It's me you came for, no one else but me. Let her go."

"Ah, but sir, what fun would I have in letting her go?" Slowly, the commander pulled Antoinette in front of himself, bringing the pistol to her temple.

-------------------------------

Dupree had heard enough. Though he could see nothing but shadows from his place in front of one of the windows, the glass did little to stop any sound within. The commander intended to shoot the man in cold blood. The commander still spoke as he raced from the church, back to the stand of trees Raoul had entered earlier.

--------------------------------

Raoul's eyes shot open as Dupree burst into the area where he still leaned against the tree in thought. Dupree's face showed white in the moonlight. Having no time to react save to stand erect, he opened his mouth to speak but Dupree cut off his words.

"Monsieur Vicomte. You must come quickly. The commander— he has entered the church and now holds all inside at gunpoint."

Raoul's face blanched at the thought of Antoinette in trouble. "What do you mean gunpoint? The commander is in the church? You have a gun, why did you not stop him? You left them all to that man's control?"

Dupree looked sick as he answered. "Oui, monsieur, I have a gun. But to use it against an officer is a hanging offense, whether it is justified or not. And I am no marksman. I could easily miss and someone would die in there. Please, monsieur. The commander has lost his mind. He is convinced taking the Opera Ghost back will earn him a huge promotion. He doesn't care who dies in the process." Dupree grasped Raoul's jacket, pulling him toward the church. Raoul's first thought was why this man deigned to touch him. But as he listened to Dupree, he realized how serious the situation must be to force the man to seek him. Dragged along, he wondered what chance he stood unarmed to help.

"All right, give me your pistol. You go back to the window. I'll go around to the back door. I need five minutes. After that, you must draw his attention. Now, go." Raoul turned on his heel and crept to the back of the church. As Dupree returned to the window a scream rang out from the church.

-------------------------------------

Christine had been trying to see what was happening but it was difficult to see around Erik. When he moved forward several steps, it gave her a first hand look. She watched as the commander's gun came up to Antoinette's face. Christine screamed out her fear for her friend. "No! Don't hurt her!" She tried to get around Erik but he pushed her back behind him, pressing her back with one arm but never taking his eyes off the gun.

"I shan't hurt her, Madame, as long as all of you co-operate."

The priest began to walk toward the commander, his hands out, palms up in supplication. "Commander, this is a house of God. Surely you understand the offer of sanctuary to all who enter, saint and sinner alike. You can not mean to shoot this man in the church."

All eyes were now on the commander as he considered the priest's words.

"You are right, Father. I should not shoot him in here. I do not wish to offend— God, unlike him," at this, the commander once again glared at Erik, "who offends with his every breath. You did not think I knew did you, Monsieur _Opera Ghost?_ I heard the stories after the fire, why you hid behind a mask." He paused as if in thought. Suddenly smiling, he adopted a conversational demeanor. "I shall give you what you desire, Monsieur, your life for theirs, if you meet my terms. I am sure there are those in this church who have never looked upon your face. Perhaps all of them? Remove the mask, in front of God and the others, and I will allow them to live."

Erik had always taken great care that Antoinette should never see his face bare. Neither Jacques, Phillip nor the priest had seen him either. He knew the reaction he would receive from them. But the one that would hurt most of all would be Antoinette's. She'd thought him her saving angel. Now what would she think? Slowly, he raised his right hand, when Christine broke free of his grasp. Coming around him, she grabbed his arm in a grip that surprised him with the strength of it.

"No. Erik, no." He lowered his arm as she turned on the commander. "This is my _husband, _Commander. I will not allow him to do that." She looked back to Erik, the depth of her love clear in her eyes. "I will not let him remove it." She took a deep breath, and smiling at him said, "I will remove it." Erik could only stand frozen as Christine raised her hands to the mask. He felt her fingers as she slipped them under the edge and pulled it away with a gentle tug. "I love you, Erik. I love you." Still unable to move from her gaze, she put her arms around his neck and kissed the marred skin, whispering over and over those same three words, "I love you".

No one uttered a word. No gasps, no screams, filled his ears. When Erik looked to them, he saw nothing in their expressions but compassion and understanding. He realized then, that they knew the man behind the mask after all. Looking to the commander again, he saw the hate and disgust in the man's eyes. But a bargain was a bargain after all.

"Commander, you have seen what you asked. Now, I shall accompany you out of the church. Let Antoinette and the others go. Those are the terms you offered."

A nasty smirk crossed the commander's face as he released Antoinette, shoving her toward the priest. "Take her. I have what I came for." Erik watched as the priest guided Antoinette back to Claude, her temple bleeding where the gun had broken the skin. He nodded to Phillipe who came forward, taking Christine by the arm in an attempt to take her to the pew.

"No, Erik! No! You can't do this. I won't let you do this. I'm going with you. I can't live without you, I can't…" She sobbed now, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Christine, you must. You will. I have an— agreement to honor, and I will. Now, go with Phillipe. You will be all right."

She clung to him as Phillipe took her hands, removing them from Erik and leading her to the pew. Once there, Antoinette wrapped her arms around Christine, pulling her down to the seat.

"Come here, Opera Ghost. We will leave the church together I think, with my pistol in your side. I wouldn't want anyone thinking suddenly that they can be a hero after all." He pointed the gun at the women as Erik approached making sure there would be no false moves. When he was close enough, he shoved the gun in Erik's side and turned, pushing Erik toward the front door. When they reached the door, the commander ordered Erik to open it. Both men walked through and the door banged shut behind them.

-------------------------------------------

Dupree had no idea how much time had passed. He had been too caught up in the events inside the church. He could see the shadow, one man, then two, then one again as it grew and split apart behind the window. He knew the commander meant to shoot the man in the back once they had gone through the door. Afraid that any diversion he created may cause that to happen immediately, he watched the shadow reach the door, then disappear as the door banged shut. He raced to the front of the church, hoping the Vicomte was inside and heard what had transpired.

---------------------------------------

Erik paced forward from the commander. He heard Christine crying behind him and his only regret was that he would never again hold her in his arms, never grow old with her, never touch his lips to hers again. For one brief moment, his rage blazed within him. But just as quickly as it had flared, he tamped it down, knowing if he were to act on it in the church, any of the others might sustain harm. Reaching the door, he opened it as instructed passing through with the commander's gun still digging into his side. The last thing he heard before the door banged shut was his wife's sobs.

------------------------------------

Raoul heard only bits and pieces of the events in the church. The solid study door shut out most of the sound. He knew the door would have to be open before he would hear Dupree's diversion. He prayed the priest took good care of the church as he turned the door's handle, and his prayers were answered as it made no noise. Cracking the door gave him a partial view of the front of the church. He could not see the commander, but saw Antoinette with the other men, her temple bleeding with a nasty bruise. His temper flared with the sight of her hurt. Then he saw Phillipe lead Christine to her, heard Erik say something about a bargain. Erik moved forward and the commander came into view. Raoul saw the gun shoved into Erik's side as the two approached the front doors. He got a good look at the pistol. A Chamelot DelVigne, the same as he held in his hand. _Six shots. God, please let me be perfect with only one. _As the door opened and the two men passed through, Raoul entered the church.

Antoinette caught the movement from the corner as the door shut on the two men. "Raoul! Mon Dieu, Raoul. You must help him, please." She left Christine and ran to him, throwing her arms around him. He wrapped one arm around her as he looked to the others.

"What did Erik mean, a bargain?"

"Oh Raoul," she cried, "He gave his life for ours."

With that, Raoul loosed Antoinette and rushed to the doors, hoping he was in time.

---------------------------------

Dupree had no idea how to stop the horror unfolding in front of him. The commander ordered the man forward across the steps of the church. When the man reached the middle of the street, the commander ordered him to stop not to turn around. Dupree knew the commander meant to shoot this man in the back. Whatever the man had done, Dupree could not let that happen. He heard the commander speak and, picking up a large rock, beat on the side of the church. In slow motion, he watched the commander turn his way, the gun turning with him.

----------------------------------

Erik stopped in the middle of the street as instructed. He knew the commander meant to kill him this way, in the back, the coward's way, and it infuriated him. He prayed that God had forgiven him enough to offer one chance to change his fate as the commander spoke.

"Well, Opera Ghost. I shall have my prize. I want to thank you for being so co-operative. You will understand I'm sure, why I have no desire to look upon your face again. How that woman could kiss it I simply don't understand."

The commander's last statement drove Erik's fury beyond his control. As he turned to face the commander, he had one desire; to break the man in half. He barely heard the commotion at the side of the church as the commander turned and the door of the church burst open behind him.

--------------------------------

Raoul plunged through the door, gun at the ready, the scene before him appearing surreal in the moonlight. He heard the pounding, watched Erik, eyes glowing red in the night as he turned on the commander, who was himself, turning toward the noise. Raoul shouted at the commander who continued to turn toward him now, gun coming with him. Raoul held his breath to steady the gun and pulled the trigger as two shots rang out almost simultaneously.

17


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Time stood still. The commander faced Raoul, sneer on his face, gun smoking in his outstretched hand. Then, as if in slow motion, Raoul watched the sneer disintegrate into a look of stunned surprise and then horror as the commander looked down at his chest. What began as a small stain of blood had bloomed across the front of his uniform. He looked back to Raoul, the question on his face evident as his knees began to buckle. As he hit the ground, he looked once more to his chest, reaching his hand to Raoul in disbelief as the gun fell from it. Finally he pitched face forward, into the dirt. The night knew death as Erik's eyes met Raoul's across the fallen man's body, an unexpected bond forging between them. Suddenly, Antoinette threw her arms around Raoul as Christine pushed past them, running to Erik. As she reached him, she grabbed his neck, her body hitting him so hard, had he not seen her coming, they would have gone sprawling to the ground.

"Erik, oh thank God, Erik, I thought he would kill you." She rained kisses on him as he lifted her off her feet, crushing her to him.

"Oh, Christine." He held her tight as he tried to kiss her tears away. Finally setting her feet on the ground, he stood with her held to his chest, her arms still wrapped around his neck, as she cried and he promised never to leave her again.

Phillipe had paused by Raoul, looking on the scene in front of them when Jacques came up from behind. As he gazed around the site, he saw Dupree, half lying, against the corner of the church.

"Vicomte, look." Raoul looked to Jacques as he pointed in Dupree's direction.

"Go, see to him."

Jacques and Phillipe hurried to Dupree.

"Are you shot, man?" one of them asked, as they searched the officer for wounds. They saw a great deal of blood on Dupree's face.

"I am— the ball grazed my head I think. I'm not sure." Still stunned, Dupree put his hand to his head as if just noticing the warm blood trickling down his face and neck. "I think— I'll be fine. Can someone help me up?"

"I think you should remain where you are for the moment, at least until you regain your head and someone can take a closer look at your wound."

"No, you can't, I can't— the commander. No, you must get me up. Two gendarmes followed us. I don't know how much time we have before they reach us, nor do I know what they will do once they arrive. I know they saw the commander's insanity but beyond that—."

Raoul had reached them, his arm still around Antoinette as she clung to him. Jacques and Phillipe looked to him, questioning.

"Get him on his feet and into the church. If it wasn't for him— " Raoul leaned toward him, releasing Antoinette in the process. Placing his hand on Dupree's shoulder he waited for the officer to look to him. "I have no idea what would have happened tonight had you not— Thank you." He looked back to Jacques and Phillipe. "Hurry, move him now. I'll take care of things our here. Antoinette, you go with them— "

"No!" Her vehemence was surprising to him. "No, Raoul. I won't go with them. I'll stay with you."

He reached his hand up to caress her cheek. "No, I want you safe. Out here, you would be a target should trouble start. Go with them, I shall be inside shortly." Her ordeal over, she shook at his touch. Motioning to Claude who still stood with the priest, he walked her to her father as Claude met them halfway. She clung to Raoul's sleeve as her father tugged her toward safety. Placing his hand over hers, he removed it, smiling at her. "It is all right, I'm not leaving. I'll be in as soon as I see to this. See if you can tend the officer's wound for me, please." She took a deep breath then sighed, worry still evident on her face.

"You promise? You'll not leave, you'll be all right?"

"Yes, ma chérie, I will. No go." He nodded at Claude, then turned toward Erik and Christine.

-----------------------------------

They had gathered again in the church, the priest entering last after having gone to the commander's body saying a prayer for the tortured soul that had been released. They now discussed what they would do when the gendarme arrived.

"Erik, you and Christine need to leave. I'll tell them I shot the commander in self-defense, after he had already attacked Dupree. The others will vouch for me. And what are they going to do? I am a Vicomte , after all." A smirk touched his mouth, "Finally, something my title is good for." Antoinette sat close to Raoul, her hand tight in his as he spoke to Erik. He patted her hand with his other and turned to smile at her, then turned to Christine. "Christine, I owe you an— apology. I have behaved abominably and it was unwarranted. You had made your choice, I chose not to accept it. I see now, it was the only one you could make. So please, the two of you must go."

"No, Raoul." Erik spoke for the first time since they had reentered the church. He had taken a seat on the front pew, his arm wrapped around Christine in a show of ownership and protection. "I will not run. I am done with that. I will not have Christine live like that. I will face the gendarme when they arrive. It is because of me that all of this came about."

"Excuse me, monsieur, but I think the Vicomte has a point." Dupree had sat after being cleaned and bandaged. Holding his head in his hands, he spoke quietly. "Though I don't think you need to leave the city, you might wish to retire to the inn. I think that I can persuade the officers to accept the Vicomte's explanation easily enough. That may be more difficult if you remain." At his last statement, he raised his head to look at them all, a slight smile on his face.

Father Ignacio approached Erik, putting his hand on Erik's shoulder. "Tonight, I blessed a union between two people who love each other more than any I've seen before. This is your wedding night. We will take care of the explanations. Go, you have a wife now. This should be a time of happiness for you both." He smiled on them both, before lifting his hands and clasping them in front of him. He waited until they both rose. Erik released Christine from his grasp, looking to Raoul. The men's eyes locked on each other. Erik took a step toward Raoul, who stiffened in anticipation. Erik stood over him, his stature intimidating still. Unmoving, he looked on Raoul, searching his face. Suddenly, he extended his hand to the boy. A look of shock crossed Raoul's countenance but Erik knew it was years of ingrained manners that caused the boy's hand to meet his. Never taking his eyes from Raoul, Erik clasped his hand and shook it. "Thank you. For my life." With that, he released Raoul's hand and, with his arm around his wife, made his way out of the church.

----------------------------------

The officers walked into the church half an hour later.

"Are you saying the commander is the one who shot you?" one of the officers asked Dupree.

"Oui, he did. If it wasn't for the Vicomte, I would be dead now." Dupree glared at the two officers, challenging them to dispute the word of a Vicomte. Both officers seemed to squirm under his look, then turned to Raoul.

"Is this true, Monsieur Vicomte? His recounting of the events is correct?"

Raoul paused a fraction of a second before responding. "I could never allow any man to be gunned down in cold blood, officers."

The officers exchanged another glance, then moved toward Dupree, grabbing his arms. "Come on then. We'll need to take the commander's body back to Paris. Vicomte, you will return with us? A report will be required at headquarters." Dupree swayed as they helped him to his feet.

"Perhaps you both should go along as soon as possible. I think this man should not ride for a day or two. I shall bring him with me—," he looked to Antoinette, "when my business is finished here."

"As you wish then, Monsieur Vicomte." They helped Dupree back down to his seat and with a slight bow to Raoul, left the church.

Raoul sat with Antoinette in the pew, as the others assisted Dupree into the priest's study, closing the door behind them. He lifted his arm and smiled at her as she ducked underneath, snuggling into his shoulder.

-------------------------------

As Christine paused in the doorway, she placed her hand on Erik's chest. "May I have— a moment?" she asked with a catch in her voice.

"Of course." Erik bowed to her but as he waited he paced the hallway like a caged panther. Now that their time had come, his fear raised its ugly head once again, causing him to think the worst— that she didn't want him after all. He struggled with the feelings; the rational side of him knowing this was not the case, the emotional side warning that it could possibly be true. After what seemed an eternity, he heard her soft call. Knowing this to be the moment of truth, his hand trembled as he opened the door. What he saw rooted him to the floor. Christine stood by the bed, her dress askew, her face flushed. He stared at the picture in front of him as she smiled shyly.

"Erik, come in and close the door. You can't stand there all night."

Her words broke him from his reverie. He forced his feet to move forward.

"Christine, you—."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to look perfect for you, but I couldn't get my dress off and I'd left my valise in my room, so my nightgown was there as well. I wanted this to be perfect and look what I've done. I need help with this and, oh— I hope you're not upset."

A smile came to him as he gazed at her. "No, my love. You are a beauty no matter what you wear." He reached her, enveloping her in his embrace. "I love you, Christine."

She placed her hands on his face and pulled him to her. "I love you, Erik."

He turned her so her back was to him and undid the buttons on her bodice. As he unfastened each one, he left a kiss in its place. With the back opened completely, he pushed the sleeves down her arms and the dress slipped from her in a whisper of silk at her feet. Turning her round to face him, he took in her form. Even through her chemise, her silhouette was easy to ascertain and it was perfect. Round breasts that stood against the material of her gown, a small waist, she was everything he'd thought her to be and more. She touched his cheek and, raising her lips to him, questioned him with a kiss. He answered her by running his tongue across her lips, urging her to open to him. She sighed into him as her mouth allowed entrance. He tasted her gently at first, her tongue meeting his. They held their kiss, learning each other's secrets until Erik felt as if he was on fire. His hands fumbled with the ribbon on her chemise. When it came untied, he pushed it down her until it lay with her dress. With a groan, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed. She was warm in his arms and her mouth had left her mark on him as he released their kiss. Her smoky eyes watched him as he removed his shirt. Once it was off, he lay on the bed beside her, pulling her to him. As she wrapped her arm around his back, she froze and her eyes grew wide. Slowly, she traced the scars that crossed his back, her eyes full of pain. Erik could feel her touch on them, realizing she must have very little real knowledge of man's immense cruelty.

"It's nothing, Christine. Old scars from a different life. That's all past and done."

"Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. There was nothing you could have done." He watched as she smiled at him.

"Not then, no. Now, I can help you forget them. I can give you a new life."

Caressing her face, he kissed her again, pouring his soul into her, everything he was. She accepted with the same passion, meeting him breath for breath. He rolled her to her back, kissing her cheek. His lips traveled down her neck with small overlapping kisses, not wanting to miss a bit of her. Raising his hand to her breast, he touched it lightly and felt a shiver run through her. He leaned to her, suckling her nipple as it grew hard in answer to his mouth. He was amazed at the response of her body to his ministrations. Running his hand down her stomach, he watched the goose bumps rise showing a trail where his hand had touched.

Lying on her back, Christine gripped the sheet, white knuckled, in an attempt to keep herself grounded, but Erik's every touch made her feel as if she would fly away. Never had she felt such sensations. Everywhere he traced, he left a searing burn upon her skin. When she felt she would die, she released the sheets and rolled to face him, wrapping her arms around him. Pulling him to her, she felt his hand run down her back. She could feel his grip upon her buttocks as he pulled her hips to his, pressing her against him. Her body flushed warm and she could feel his presence as he moved against her. She felt the wetness rush between her legs, a thrill move up her spine. Unable to endure it any longer, she pushed him from her and tugged at his breeches. He grasped her hands, looking at her tenderly, then guided them to the fastenings, showing her what to do. Finally, when his breeches were off, she asked him to stand. "I want to see every bit of you, to know every part of you." She could see the power in the muscles that crossed his chest, rising and falling with his every gasp. Her eyes traveled with her hands as she touched him, memorizing every part of him. His skin was smooth and hot. She stood, walking behind him, and kissed his scars as if they were holy. Looping around him, she touched him lightly here and there and felt his flesh move beneath her fingers. Coming full circle she sat on the bed again, still gazing at him, still touching him. As her hand reached his waist, she looked down to see his arousal, large and intimidating.

"Are you afraid of me, Christine?"

"No, Erik. Never."

Erik rose from the bed and stood before her. He watched as Christine moved to the edge of the bed and reached out for him. Placing her hands on him, she explored him, caressed him, kissed him, loving every part of him. She circled him and his breath caught as she kissed his scars. Then she came back to sit again, still brushing her hands over him. She followed the line of hairs that ran from his stomach to his maleness, kissing each place she touched. When she kissed his hardness, his body vibrated and his knees weakened. "Christine, you don't—"

"This is my time, Erik. I want to learn every bit of you." She shushed him and began again. He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she explored him with her mouth. Sensations he thought never to feel set his heart racing. The more she did to him, the more control he gave up. Finally, his body could take no more. Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her flat on the bed. He knelt, running his hands from her collarbones to her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples. They stood erect at his touch and he bent forward to kiss them. Moving onto the bed, his body above her, he tensed as he waited for a sign. She gave it by parting her legs in invitation, where he settled with a sigh. Stiff and hot, he pushed at her, testing, and found her wet with her desire. Pushing away, he smiled at her and moved down her body, his tongue following her throat, then between her breasts and ending in a circle around her belly button, causing her to mew in response. Finally, he reached her curls, the same color as her hair. Soft and thick, they tickled at his nose and he nuzzled against her. She put her hands out and grasped his hair, lifting his face to her gaze.

"Erik, please. This isn't—"

"Christine, I would know my wife, as she knows me." With that, he buried his face in her most private part, surprised at the many different textures. He ran his tongue over the different surfaces until he found her entrance. He thrust his tongue in her and felt her arch, pushing herself against his mouth. He tasted every inch of her and when she finally panted with need, he moved back to kiss her lips again, letting her taste him, letting her taste herself. Returning his fingers to the place he'd just left, he inserted one, then two, massaging her. He didn't want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, but he knew it would and he told her so. "This is a first for me, Christine. Though I've read and seen, I cannot tell you how much this will hurt. But I will be as gentle as I can be." She nodded against him in assent. He moved to her once again, and guided himself toward her. She was moist and ready and he slipped easily inside. Then came the resistance of her virginity and she gasped. He stopped all movement, allowing her to get used to the feel of him. She buried her face against his chest, her hands on his back.

"Now, Erik, please, now." He pushed once more and felt the tear, felt the warmth, as she dug her nails into him, biting his chest but never making a sound. He waited, putting a hand to her cheek and brushing her hair from her face. But try as he might, he could not wait long. His body took possession of him and he moved in her, trying to be as gentle as possible, but knowing he had hurt her after all. Slowly his body set a rhythm. Gradually, she responded and her hips rose and met his every move. His body moved faster in question and she responded in kind. Finally, his body took complete control. He thrust into her, faster, deeper. Her hips bucked up with every thrust, answering his demands. He buried himself in her over, and over, until he felt dispossessed, a stranger in his own body. He heard a groan start, deep within her. Her body convulsed as her spasms squeezed him. He thrust deeper, feeling them tighten with his every move. She called out his name and he closed his eyes following her, his body exploding with release, emptying into her, claiming her, owning her.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been reading this for your wonderful reviews. You've all been so encouraging and it's been a great ride! Thank you all. This is, alas, my last chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 26

Christine studied Erik as the sun made its way across his sleeping countenance. She never thought to see his face so relaxed. The evening before he had thrown the shutters open to the night and they had spent it learning everything they could about the other, making love several times. Each time he touched her with a tenderness that made her heart swell with passion for him. He had been attentive to her every desire and with the moon as their only light, she had learned everything that pleased him. She did not wish to wake him but the urge to touch his face overwhelmed her. Laying her fingers on his marred cheek, she ran them down, along his jaw. She gazed at his eyes as they opened and a smile played across his lips.

"Christine—"

Her eyes lit at his smile. "_Bon matin_, my husband." She continued to caress his cheek as she searched his face. "You slept well."

"I had a reason to— wife."

His answer brought forth her own smile. If she had any doubts before, last night had erased them all. Now, she basked in the certainty of his love for her, knowing this was where she had always belonged. "I love the sound of that. Please, say it again."

"You are my wife, Christine, my soul, my music. I love you. I vow to cherish and protect you always."

Leaning forward, she kissed his chin, his throat, the hollow of his neck. She felt him shiver and smiled through her kisses.

"Christine, this is not— we have another day's journey. Perhaps two. We should collect our things and prepare to leave."

"Shhh, Erik. Just kiss me." She pulled him to her, kissing his lips. He moved over her, caressing her breast as he did. Finding her more than ready, he began to express his love for her and together, they welcomed the morning sun.

--------------------------

Antoinette had finished packing her bag and she now sat on the edge of the bed. She'd spent a restless night, thoughts of what lay ahead of her, exciting and new keeping her from sleep. And yet, her heart was saddened. Though she knew it was futile, she had hoped for more time with Raoul. She had hoped for the time to explore the many intricacies of her feelings for him. She found him charming, thoughtful and— kind. Nothing she had ever seen before in her limited brush with the nobility had given her the faintest thought that he might have more to him than an interest only in himself and disdain for commoners. If it wasn't for his title and bearing— well, no matter now. He might be just like her inside, just a person, not a nobleman but to society, he would always be Raoul, Vicomte DeChagny. Sighing, she reached for her bag as a knock sounded on her door. Thinking it her father, she opened the door, only to be swept into Raoul's arms and soundly kissed. So much so that her knees went weak and she wrapped her arms around him for support. When he finally broke their kiss, he gazed intently at her, a serious expression on his face as though he could read her feelings in her eyes.

"Please, Antoinette, may I come in for a moment? I would speak with you."

On shaking legs, she backed away to allow him room to pass but he kept one arm around her and lead her to the bed where he bade her to sit. He smiled at her, then turned and began to pace in front of her. She knew he had come to say good-bye. That their time together had been a diversion but nothing more. Wishing to help him save face, she decided she would say good-bye instead.

"Raoul?" He stopped his pacing and looked to her. With tears in her eyes, she said, "I appreciate what you did for Christine and Erik, for all of us really. But I know it was just an illusion to see us safe away from the city. So," she stood to show him out. "I will say good-bye to you, and thank you for your kindness." Raoul looked at her as if she had slapped him and her heart turned over.

"Antoinette, you— you're saying— what are you saying? You don't—"

"I am saying that I enjoyed our time together. But I also know it could never be more and so—" She had to turn away from him, unable to face him as she spoke. He grasped her arms hard enough to hurt her and turned her to him.

"I didn't come to say good-bye." He searched her face; she saw confusion and something else play across his. "I came because—"

"Why did you come if not to say goodbye? There is only one thing that could come of a relationship between the two of us. Did you come to ask me to be your mistress? You know it's the only thing your society would accept and that, Vicomte, I will never do. When I bed a man, it will be as a wife, married in love, not to satisfy his urges. And you couldn't possibly love me. I'm only an innkeeper's daughter, after all." She was angry at the chasm of their stations that would permit her use as a mistress and nothing more. Raoul still held her arms as she shook with emotion and she saw the shocked expression on his face.

"_Mistress_? Look here, Antoinette. I don't know what has happened to me. I spent most of the night sorting out my feelings. I thought at one time, that I was desperately in love with Christine. What I was in love with were the memories of a child, the fun, the happiness, the sweetness of youth. I was in love with Christine only as a part of those memories. I see that now. I watched her with Erik, the way they are together. We would never have shared that, she and I. I saw that all so clearly when they married.

"But I saw something else as well, though it's taken me several days and most of last night to sort out. I may have a title, Antoinette, but inside, I feel just as you do, I ache just as you do and I…" He released her as he stopped talking and she realized she had been holding her breath. What was he trying to tell her? He returned to his pacing as he ran his hand through his hair. She heard nothing save his steps as she waited for him to continue. "What I'm trying to say is," He came back to her and pulled her into his arms. "I don't quite know what I feel for you, but a mistress? Never. I could never hurt you that way. I just know I don't want you to leave." Her heart skipped a beat.

"Raoul, I must go. You cannot—" How could she tell him how she really felt, without opening herself to the pain she knew would follow?

"Then, I shall go with you." Once again, she tried to protest, but he placed his thumb on her lower lip, running it lightly from one corner to the other. "Don't. Please, just let me— let us take whatever direction is meant to be. I need to know. I will not use you, nor will I hurt you. Just let me know you." His thumb still rested on her lip and she kissed it. He ran it down her chin, lifting her face to his. Leaning in to her, he kissed her, lightly at first, then with depth and longing. She knew, no matter the outcome, she had to make the journey with him.

-----------------------------------

Jacques and Erik loaded the valises onto the carriages and made final preparations to leave Le Raincy. Erik took a moment to check on Dupree before they left. The man had gone against his training to help Erik and he could not let that pass. When he entered the room he saw Dupree sitting up in bed. Jacques left with more luggage and it afforded a moment for Erik and Dupree alone. Erik saw the look in Dupree's eyes as he stood in front of the man, and wondered what he really saw. With Christine's urgings, he had not donned the mask yet that morning. But Dupree's eyes gave away nothing. "They tell me your name is Dupree."

"Oui, Monsieur, Alain Dupree. I would say officer, but it seems I may have dissolved my commission last night. Time will tell."

A wistful smile touch one side of Dupree's face. Erik moved forward and lifted the bandage around Dupree's head, noticing the man never flinched but sat calmly. "Antoinette did an excellent bit of care on your wound. But I think rest for another day or so is in order. After that, you can resume your duties. What will you do, Dupree, when you return to the city? Will the other officers give you any trouble?"

"Non, Monsieur, they will not. They saw what the commander had become over the last several days. Besides, there have been reports of robbers about, attacking travelers. I think I will not need to mention the Vicomte either. If my superiors accept the explanation, I will still be an officer. If not— ah, well…"

Understanding passed between the two men. "The other officers have left for Paris already, with the commander's body. Jacques will remain as well as the last carriage and you will both leave for the city tomorrow." Erik turned to go but thought better of it and looked to Dupree once more. "I— thank you."

"Monsieur, I do not know what you did or did not do. I only know that no man deserves to die like that. I could not have lived with myself had I not tried to stop him. It is better this way."

Erik watched Dupree a moment more, nodded at him and left the room.

------------------------

At last they finished their final preparations. The hitched the horses, loaded the carriages and the only thing left was to say goodbye. Jacques had come to see them off, and receive from Claude the paperwork necessary for the disposition of the inn. When enough time had elapsed, Jacques would handle the sale, forwarding the monies and final paperwork. He shook Claude's hand then turned toward Erik, standing with Christine at their Brougham. "I wish to thank you, Monsieur Erik."

"Thank me, Jacques? It is all of us who should be thanking you. You had no vested interest in anything here, yet you offered your unconditional assistance." Jacques had walked toward Erik and now took his hand in both of his.

"No, I must thank you, Monsieur, for giving an old man the opportunity to feel alive and worthwhile again." He turned to take Christine's hand, but she reached out, giving him a quick hug.

"Yes, well—" Erik still looked somewhat startled by Jacques' statement but his voice carried its usual timbre. "We will send word as soon as we are settled. You may then forward those things we left behind."

Erik handed Christine into the carriage, climbing in behind her. He glanced back at Raoul who sat with Antoinette in the Victoria, his arm across her shoulders, a look of contentment on his face. Erik had been taken aback, expecting Raoul to take his leave of them all as quickly as possible but Christine simply smiled when Raoul insisted he continue with them. He saw Claude's surprise when Antoinette told her father that Raoul would be continuing the journey, but he said nothing at her announcement and Erik wondered what was going through the man's mind. The boy was a Vicomte after all. But he knew Antoinette, knew she would be able to handle anything this mere mortal may hold in store for her.

As the group left Le Raincy, Erik told Christine of his plans once they reached Meaux. He would purchase a big house far enough from the city to be private, but not so far as to cause a great inconvenience. He would plant a large garden with only blood red roses, just for her. They would keep a music room in which they could always bare their souls to one another, a place of their own, where they would be free to love each other. Christine snuggled close to him listening, her head on his shoulder, her arm entwined through his. When she first entered the carriage she had moved something from the seat, and now held it on her lap, her hand resting on it, Erik's over hers; his white leather mask. He glanced down as her fingers moved over its surface, his last barrier against the world. With Christine by his side, he knew the barrier was no more. Now the mask served only as a reminder of their past. Their strength lay in their love for one another. Together, he knew they would face their future unafraid. He would have no need of a barrier again. He rested his chin atop Christine's head and closed his eyes.

_Et quand ma vie est faite, Christine, je vous aimerai toujours et toujours_.

_And when my life is done, Christine, I'll love you still and always._

finis


End file.
